Nippelettes Vibrating Clamps

Nippelettes Vibrating Clamps

She wrote to ask for my advice. She was in a slump with her boyfriend and curious about many things she had never tried. How hot is voyeurism, really, she wondered? What’s the best way for a straight woman to find female sex partners? Submission sounded like something she might like to try, but then again, so did domination. If someone was interested in group sex, should she try a threesome first?

Also, she wanted to know, what’s the deal with nipple clamps? She liked having her breasts kissed. Her boyfriend had even pinched her nipples a few times, and that was arousing. But wouldn’t clamps hurt? Did they require much preparation?

These were all subjects ripe for discussion. We traded a few notes and decided it might be easier simply to talk in person.

After we had fucked for a couple of hours, she reminded me about the nipple clamps. “Let’s see what you keep in your toy chest, Jefferson,” she said, turning on her hip. “I need a minute to get my legs back anyway.”

I retrieved a chest. I dug past dildos and butt plugs to get to toys more geared to sensation play—sharps and such—trying a few on her flesh to demonstrate their various uses. Finally, I arrived at an assortment of nipple clamps. I handed her a pair to examine.

“Before you shop for nipple clamps,” I began, my tone switching to demonstration mode, “You may want to try playing with your nipples with things at hand. Touching and pinching yourself, for example, or asking your boyfriend to do so. You might also try using clothespins. It’s easy to try out sensations before you shop for toys, and smart, too. That makes you a better consumer, because you have a clearer sense of what you like.”

“I never even considered using clothespins!” she said, weighing chained clamps in her palm. “You're like the Martha Stewart of sex. Clothespins have never seemed sexy before now.”

“Clothespins are great fun, though once you try them, you realize the benefits of clamps: clothespins don't have variable settings. It’s handy to identify pervertibles,” I nodded. “So many common things can be converted to perverted uses—hence, ‘pervertibles.’”

“Pervertibles,” she repeated. “I get sex and new vocabulary words. Nice.” She twisted a small knob on the clamps she was holding. “I was totally unaware of the different settings on nipple clamps. How do they work?”

“Here.” I picked up a pair of Nippelettes Vibrating Clamps. “I think you’ll enjoy these. They vibrate—see this button on the bottom? That turns them on and off. Here, give me your hand.” I turned on the vibrator and put a clamp in her palm.

“Ooh, I do like that!” she smiled.

“Nice, right? They get power from watch batteries. This set came with extra batteries and so far, I haven’t yet needed to replace them. Here, let’s try them out. But first, let’s get you ready.” Tacking back the clamps, I switched off the vibrator and leaned forward to take a nipple in my mouth. I held it lightly in my teeth, flicking my tongue rapidly over the small bit of trapped flesh.

“Oh!” she responded, surprised by my unexpected attachment to her breast. She relaxed after a moment. “Damn, I love how that feels.” I took her other nipple between my fingers and squeezed. Her back arched, lifting her small waist under my arm. I pressed back, holding her firmly in place. Her nipples grew hard from my attentions and my resistance to her movement.

I pulled back. “Oh, that’s nice,” I said, admiring her eraser-shaped nipples. “Now, the adjustment mechanism is pretty simple. You just squeeze the handle to the preferred length, twist the knob a little . . .” I attached a clamp to her breast. “ . . . and then tighten again once it’s in place. See? How does that feel?”

“Hmm. I can take a little more.”

“More pressure? Okay.” I tightened the knob until it pinched more firmly, and then turned on the vibrator. “Okay, how’s that?”

“Damn.” Her head fell back slightly. “Oh, that feels good.” I repeated the steps with her other nipple and watched as her body stilled and relaxed.

I put a finger between her legs. “Say, you do like this, don’t you? You’re very wet.” I kissed her belly, then lowered my face to her pussy. I lapped slowly before building speed, matching the movement of my tongue on her clit to the sensation on her breasts, imaging my mouth an extension of the mechanical clamps.

She came quickly. “Oh shit, Jefferson, that was so intense,” she sighed. “I really needed to come like that. It was so, um . . .”

I lifted my tongue from her clit. “Intense?”

Her belly trembled under the flat of my palm. “Uh, yeah,” she laughed. “That’s the word.”

“I’m glad you so enjoyed the clamps,” I sat up, taking each clamp in a hand. “Now, let’s get them off. I should warn you though . . .” I opened the handles and waited a moment. She gasped. “It can feel even more intense as the blood rushes back.”

Her hands quickly cupped her breasts. “Oh yes, it does!” she exclaimed.

I reached for a condom. “Fun, right? Now let me enjoy how much this all affected you.”

A few days later, she had a date with her boyfriend. In the interim, she had picked up a pair of nipple clamps like those we had used. “He’s very excited about trying these,” she told me. “Thanks again for the advice.”

“My pleasure,” I replied. “Maybe you’ll even get to try them on him.”

Hogtied

Hogtied

I could do this. I think I could do this. But I need to practice . . . any volunteers?

Contrarian

Emma was in bed, nude, with Kurt Vonnegut.

“Now, there’s a sight for sore eyes,” I smiled, unfastening my belt.

She looked up. “Hey.” Her eyes drifted back to her book.

I watched her read as I undressed. I tossed my socks on top of my other clothes, lifted the blanket, and got into bed. I shifted closer, pressing my flesh to hers, wrapping an arm across her waist.

She was propped against pillows so that, as I settled in, I found her breast level with my lip. I kissed her nipple.

“Hmm, man, have I missed you,” I sighed, squeezing her almost involuntarily. My muscles were eager to be reacquainted with her body, to be reset as calibers of her precise shapes and forms.

“I’ve missed you too,” she mumbled to her book.

“Keep reading,” I said, burrowing my hair on her arm. “I’m content to be close to you, smelling you.” I licked her shoulder. “Grrrr, fuck, I miss this skin.”

“It’s okay, I can read later,” she said, folding down a page. She put the book to a side. “I can’t be with you later, so Kurt can wait.”

I lifted my lips to her cheek.

I hadn’t touched Emma in nearly two months.

Last year, we were all over each other. If we found a few spare hours, we spent them in bed. In our queer way, we were each attracted to the idea that neither of us made many demands on the other. Apart from our time together, we each had very full lives.

Neither of us seemed to need the other to be fulfilled—and that made us want each other all the more.

Being with Emma was easy.

Then, it got hard.

I was away for much of the summer. When I returned, she was gearing up for a return to school in the fall. We stole away for a weekend upstate.

We swam, read, cooked on a grill, made love, and unraveled our relationship.

One morning shortly after sunrise, we sat nude, looking out over a lake.

“I give it until Labor Day,” she said, tucking her knees under her chin.

“What?” I asked, petting her blonde hair.

“Us.”

“No,” I said, firmly. “You don’t push me away. We can ride out your semesters in school . . .”

“You don’t know how I am in school,” she said, turning to me. Her eyes welled. “I’m going to be very focused on that. I won’t want to socialize, ever. I’m saying goodbye to all my friends. I can say goodbye to you, too.”

I kissed her shoulder. “I’m not saying goodbye to you,” I whispered. “You’re going to need someone now and then, to hold you, to cook for you, to be there for you. You already have me. Don’t squander that. I’ll fit myself around your schedule—no pressure, no demands—just whenever you can see me.”

She relented, but she remained dubious.

Back in the city, we pulled out our calendars. She gave me her work and class schedule, and I pondered my nights of parenting, work and orgies. We coordinated our dates for the next four months. They weren’t many, and some would begin late. I agreed that we would always meet at her place in Brooklyn, so that she could come home from class at night and wake up the next morning to prepare for work.

I offered myself as Emma’s comfort man; to be there for her when she was exhausted, to care for her and to restore her for her next grueling day.

I barely made the grade.

Some nights were fine. I would arrive carrying a bottle of wine and we would unwind to television and dinner before making love and passing out.

Some nights, I was late. She would watch television, dinner waiting, as she wondered when I would be there, knowing I was coming from another date or another orgy.

One rainy night around ten, I traveled an hour by subway only to find that her buzzer wasn’t working. I hadn’t known it was broken; neither did she. My cell phone was back at my place, and I couldn’t recall her number. I looked up at the light in her window, rain falling in my eyes, not knowing how to let her know that I was on the sidewalk waiting for her.

I finally took the train back home and sent an email, not wanting to wake her. She replied; she wasn’t sleeping.

Having me as her comfort man proved small comfort to Emma. With everything else in her life, she didn’t need the added stress of someone who couldn’t seem to manage his commitment to our schedule.

She declined to renew my offer for the next semester.

One day in January, she let me know that she had a few hours for me. I readily accepted.

She even put aside Kurt Vonnegut for me.

I kissed Emma hungrily. She parted her lips slightly for me, knowing how I long for her kisses.

I held the nape of her neck in my palm as I entered her.

“Oh God, Emma,” I breathed.

“Jefferson,” she said, resting her hand on my chest. “Did you eat onions today?”

I moved myself in and out of her body. “Uh, I guess, maybe. I had a burrito for lunch.”

“And you didn’t brush your teeth before sex?”

“I guess I neglected to do so.” I panted into my palm and sniffed. “Is it that bad?”

She wriggled her nose. “Yes, you need to take care of that.”

“Seriously? We’re fucking here.”

“Not so long as you smell like onions, we’re not.”

“Fine.” I pulled out and kissed her cheek, keeping my lips tightly pursed. “I’ll be right back.”

I stood over the bathroom sink, scrubbing intently. I looked down as my cock shriveled, puckering latex and flesh. I spit, rinsed a mouthful of Listerine, and spit again.

I examined my teeth in the mirror. Spotless.

I returned to bed. “All better,” I smiled. I breathed into her neck. “I’m minty, minty fresh.”

“That’s better, thank you.” She rested her hands on my back. I took a breast in my mouth, felling myself grow hard again.

I held the nape of her neck in my palm as I entered her, again.

I kissed her cheek, her forehead, her heavy-lidded eyes. “Oh Emma, my God,” I sighed.

“Is that as hard as you can get?” she asked.

I looked down at her. “I’m plenty hard. I’m fucking you very well.”

She shrugged. “If you say so.”

“You have a funny way of getting a man hard,” I said. “Can you just shut up and fuck, please?”

I moved in her. She lay back, letting me go at it.

I kissed her hair.

“Seriously, you need to get harder. I can’t feel anything.”

I stopped in her body. “Here’s a thought. How about you make yourself useful and blow me?”

“No, no,” she shook her head. “I’m not going to be one of your idiotic ‘birthday blowjobs.’”

I laughed. “Come on, that’s a fun idea, no?”

“It’s ridiculous,” she said. “Stupid college humor.”

I rested my head on my palm, keeping myself in her. “Now, how is that college humor?”

“It’s what frat boys do,” she said, brushing her hair from her face. “Keeping score? That’s sophomoric. I expect better of you.”

“Come on,” I kissed her cheek. “Suck my cock.”

“No.”

“I didn’t realize you took my blog so seriously,” I teased.

“Jefferson, I stopped reading blogs in September. I don’t care about your blog. Someone told me about your birthday blowjobs, and I want nothing to do with it.”

“Gossips. Fine, then.” I settled myself over her. “We’ll just have to fuck.”

“Are you up to it?” she asked.

“Ball breaker,” I whispered, kissing her neck.

I pushed back and forth in her. She held my shoulders.

“Don’t you have a cock ring?” she interrupted.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got a couple,” I said, petting her face. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

“Where are they?” she asked, looking around.

“I think they are in a box in the cabinet, across the room.”

“Can you go get one?”

“Emma . . .”

“Please.”

“Urgh.”

Once more, I pulled out of Emma. I walked across the room and retrieved a box of sex toys.

If Emma was after an immediate erection, she knew that cock rings were a quick fix. They restrict the flow of blood, trapping it in an engorged cock.

“Here we go,” I said. “I’ve got this rubber one, which is too tight, and this leather one, which I’ve never used.”



Cock Ring

“Let’s try the leather one,” she said.

“You have to put it on me,” I said, laying back on the pillows. “This is your idea.”

“This wouldn’t be an issue if you had a sufficient erection.”

“This wouldn’t be an issue if you would stop busting my chops,” I said, my voice edging to irritation.

Emma gathered my balls and cock in her hand and wrapped the leather strap around my genitals. She pulled the strap snug—almost too snug—and snapped it into place.

My cock and balls flopped over a sturdy base.

“Is this comfortable?” she asked, stroking me to hardness.

“Yeah, now if you’ll just suck it a little . . .”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not happening, Jefferson.”

I scowled. “I fucking hate you.”

“It’s about time,” she said, her eyes flashing. “About time you grew a pair.”

“Get on your back, wiseass.” My cock was full and growing purple.

“Yeah?” she sat back. “You ready to fuck, finally?”

“Shut the shit up,” I grimaced, entering her.

I held her thighs in my grip, pinning her in place as I took her through her first orgasm. I demanded another.

I could feel her orgasms begin to shudder on my cock in quick succession, her pussy quivering as her eyes grew round. Each orgasm was punctuated by her accelerated groan as her cunt pushed against me, threatening to expel me from her body.

I held my ground.

We had about half an hour remaining. I wanted all she could give.

The blanket was soaked as I pushed her legs aside. “Enough?” I asked.

She nodded, breathing heavily. The ends of her hair were wet with sweat.

I lay beside her, taking her fingers in mine. I caught my breath as I stroked a fingernail with my thumb.

I closed my eyes. Stop pushing me away, I thought.

She looked at me and said it was time to go.

Intimate Gifts

Some readers have asked how they could recreate the events recounted in my previous post. It’s simple! Here’s all you need.

One hourglass teenager.

One male model.

. . . and these two items, acquired from my friends at Intimate Gifts.



Ultra Harness Two



Crystal Jelly

Dance the Orange

I held Nicole close as we kissed. Wilson was on his knees, watching and exploring her body with his hands.

“What’s this on your ass?” he asked.

Nicole turned to look at him. “My stripes.”

“She took a caning last night,” I explained, rolling my fingers down her spine. I kissed her nose. “And a flogging.” Another kiss. “And a spanking.” Another kiss.

“Hot, man,” Wilson said. His hand gently ran up her back, touching me as our hands crossed paths. “And these circles?”

“My markings,” Nicole said.

“I bite her,” I explained.

“And here?” he touched her bruised left breast.

“My spots,” Nicole said.

“I grab her,” I explained.

“That’s so hot,” he said. “Do you like it when he takes you like that? When he gives it to you rough?”

She nestled into my neck. “Very much.”

I turned to kiss her, taking a cheek in my palm.

“You two are so gorgeous together,” the gorgeous man said. He nodded to the camera on my nightstand. “Would you like me to take some pictures?”

“That would be nice,” I murmured into her mouth. I closed my eyes, intent on her kiss and touch as the flash pinkened the insides of my lids.

“So hot,” Wilson repeated. “So sexy.” Our male model was an encouraging photographer.

I opened my eyes. “I want photos of you with Wilson,” I said, brushing away her hair. “You are both such pretty creatures.”

“Sure,” she said. “What do you want us to do?”

“I want you to kiss him and ignore me,” I said. I put her hand in Wilson’s. I leaned forward to kiss her goodbye. I left the bed.

I adjusted some lights. I sat quietly, watching, making myself invisible.

I walked around the bed, looking for angles.

I shot still after still.



Wilson took Nicole into rough kisses. She responded with the fervor we had tapped.

I took photographs.

In time, I put down my camera and sat next to the writhing couple.

“Wilson,” I said, petting his hair. “You are here to do something for us.”

He looked up from Nicole’s breast. “I wondered if you had forgotten.”

“My memory is very good where some things are concerned,” I said, wrapping an arm around Nicole’s neck. “Suck my dick, handsome man.”

He looked up at Nicole. “Do you want to watch me suck his cock?”

“Yeah,” she said, resting a hand on my belly.

“Say it.”

“Yeah, I want to watch you suck that cock,” she said, flatly.

“Yeah? You gonna get wet watching me suck that cock? That cock that fucks you?” He took my cock his large hand.

I giggled. Nicole looked up. I laughed at her expression.

“I’m sorry,” I said, biting my lip. “Dirty talk makes me laugh. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Proceed.”

Nicole slapped my stomach. She looked down at Wilson. “Yeah, I want to watch you suck that big cock. I want you to lick my pussy off his dick. Now shut the fuck up and do it.”

I squeezed Nicole’s arm. Locked away in her extensive vocabulary was one nasty trash-talking bitch.

Wilson smiled, turned on by her dominance.

He took my cock his mouth, bobbing his head furiously.

“Oh, nice, nice,” I sighed. “Girl, you make that cocksucker work.” I placed her hand on the nape of his neck, nodding that she should press down.

“Take it all,” she ordered.

“Yeah, boy,” I added. “This little girl just started sucking cock and she’s got you beat. You going to be bested by a teenager?”

His eyes were wide as he pumped more furiously.

“Deep, God damn it,” I said, pressing down on his neck with Nicole’s hand.

He plunged down, gagging. “Fucking amateur,” I chided.

“Swallow it,” Nicole ordered.

He grunted, working furiously as drool pooled on my balls. I rested my hands on his freckled shoulders, feeling his tense muscles.

Nicole picked up the camera, snapping as he blew me. He performed for her, aroused by the risk he took by sucking cock for her lens.

She passed the camera to me. I shot him again.

“We may need to do something different with this one,” I said, putting aside the camera. “I think he needs a lesson.”

Nicole looked at me. “You want me to blow you so he can learn?”

“No,” I said. “I want him to suck your cock.”

Wilson looked up at me. “Get off my dick, boy.” I grabbed his hair.

He pulled off, gasping. Spittle connected his lips to my cock. “That’s good and wet,” I said, stroking with his drool, aiming my cock into his lips. “You’ve got promise, cocksucker. Let’s see what you can do for the girl.”

I swung a leg over his head and stood. I went to a cabinet and found my other cock.

“Come here, Nicole.” She joined me beside the bed.

“Oh shit, are you kidding?” Wilson said. “That’s so hot, man.”

“You’ve never used a strap on, I assume,” I asked Nicole, kneeling before her. I kissed her sandy curls.

“No, never,” she said.

“Another virginity, gone. Step into these straps.” I stood, adjusting the straps on her hips. “Comfortable?” I asked, standing behind her.

“Yes, that feels fine.”

“Good.” I put my hands on her hips, gyrating them. “Now wiggle your cock for the boy.”

Wilson moved forward on the bed.

“You think you can handle my dick, Wilson?” Nicole asked.

“Oh my God, you are so hot,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“And you are so redundant,” she said, moving forward. “Suck this.” Nicole dropped her cock into his mouth, thrusting.

It took her a moment, but she shortly had the feel for fucking with her new cock.

“Flip him,” I said. “I want his ass.”

Nicole lay back on the pillows. Wilson lay between her legs on his belly, sucking her.

“Raise your ass, boy,” I said, grabbing his hip.

He complied, his body writhing.

I slapped his muscular ass. “Hold it steady, boy.” He steadied himself for a moment before his instincts took over, causing him to push and twist his hips.

I lubed a finger, slipping it into him.

“He’s never been fucked,” I told Nicole.

“Is that true?” she asked Wilson.

He grunted.

“Do you want to see him get fucked?” I asked, stroking my cock.

“I would really like that,” Nicole nodded.

“Tell him,” I said.

She held Wilson’s face in her hands. “I want to see you get fucked. I want you to get fucked while you suck my dick.”

Wilson looked at her, his eyes wide, and nodded, taking her cock deep.

“Such a good boy,” I said, taking my finger from his ass. I rolled on a condom, lubing his hole. I held his hips. “God damn it, stop moving so much,” I ordered. I spanked him.

He was still. “Good boy,” I repeated. I put my cock against his hole and pressed in slightly.

He fell forward, away from me.

“You fucking pussy,” I reprimanded. “That girl took her first ass fucking last night with no complaints. And you shy from it?” I spanked him. “Look at you, a big, muscular grown man, a bigger wuss than a teenage girl.”

He sucked her cock furiously.

I was talking tough, but I knew I had to try a different approach. I wanted him to get this if he could take it, and I wanted Nicole to see anything she wanted to see.

I raised his hips again. I gave him a finger, gently working his hole. I reached for his cock and pulled it back. I blew him as I worked his hole.

Wilson’s head was exploding with sensation. He had Nicole’s thick cock fucking his face, my mouth fucking his cock, and my finger fucking his ass.

Sudden he jumped up. He sprung off the bed.

“Fuck man, what was that?”

“A second finger,” I smiled. “Too much?”

“Holy shit, man. Is that what it’ll feel like when you fuck me?”

“No. That’s what it will feel like when I fuck you with two fingers. A cock is different.” I stood up. “Here, let’s try something else. Get back on the bed, on your back.”

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“No.” I reached for a box under my nightstand. “She is.”

“With that?” he exclaimed, pointing to her cock.

“No,” I said, sitting up. “With this.” I held up a lean dildo, slightly smaller than my cock. “Spread your legs, Wilson.” I picked up a condom and handed the lube to Nicole.

“Grease his hole,” I told her.

She looked down. She had never played with a man’s ass.

“Here, baby.” I lifted his smooth, shaved balls to expose his smooth, shaved perineum. “He’s got a very sweet pussy, Nicole. Very lucky for your first.” I took her fingers in mine. “Now, lube his hole like this, pressing in . . . good, firm but not too much . . . keep your nails away . . .”

Wilson groaned. “You all right, Wilson?” she asked.

His eyes were wide again. “Yes, yeah, God you are so hot.”

I smiled. “You’ve got him in your power, pale eyes. Okay, so now push in this dildo. There will be some resistance at his sphincter and he will push back. Then, press forward to clear that. Okay?”

“Right,” she said. She positioned the dildo on his hole and began to push.

“Oh, fuck!” Wilson groaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Good,” I said calmly. “Now press through.”

Nicole pushed passed his resistance. His face opened in amazement.

“Oh my God,” he gasped. “Oh my God, oh fuck, yeah.”

“Good.” I kissed Nicole. “Feel your way.” I leaned to her ear. “In a moment, you can fuck the shit out of him,” I whispered.

She nodded. “Right.”

His mouth dropped open as he watched her work him. Her hair was pushed away from her face. She was silent as her unearthly eyes bored into his.

She started to fuck him hard.

I took photographs.

He took a long, solid fucking from the gorgeous girl with the insistent cock.

We rested afterwards. I closed a door and opened windows, allowing them to smoke in my bedroom.

Wilson mentioned a recent divorce. Nicole asked about that. Wilson said that he had been married for ten years without much of a sex life. Now, he was amazed by how great sex could be.

“Sounds like someone I know,” she said, looking at me.

“I can’t get over you two,” Wilson said, sitting on a chair. “You seriously just met?”

“Yeah, yesterday,” Nicole said, taking a drag. “Well, after a correspondence.” I sat against her body, caressing her hips.

“And you just came to the city to see him?” he said, flipping an ash.

“Yeah.”

“Why? What made you want to meet an older man?”

She reached to the ashtray. “Well, he’s a writer. He writes about sex, and writes about it well. I wanted sex like the sex he writes about.”

“So you like it that he’s a writer?”

“Yeah,” she exhaled. “And experienced.”

“So it’s cool that he’s older?”

“I prefer it, actually. But I like that he’s smart. And, well . . . look at him.”

I grinned. Wilson laughed.

“Yeah, that’s good too. So, what happened when you got here? Did you meet someplace or go out or . . .”

“No, I just came here.”

“And what happened?”

“Well, he opened the door. And then he undressed me . . .”

“Just like that?” Wilson took another cigarette. “Just like that? He undressed you? What were you wearing? Anything sexy?”

“She looked so incredible,” I said.

She squeezed my leg.

“Seriously? I bet. Hey, can you go put on what you were wearing?”

“What, now?” Nicole said. “Sure, no problem.” She put out her cigarette and left the room.

Wilson watched her leave.

“You are one lucky man,” he grinned.

“I’m well aware of that,” I smiled. “And thanks for joining us. You’ve been great. Very respectful.”

“I know I’m lucky to be here, man.”

Nicole returned to the bedroom door, looking just as she had when she first arrived at my front door. She wore her heels, her cap and her coat closed.

“Wow, so you showed up in heels?” Wilson said, standing.

“Yes, I thought that was a nice touch,” she said.

“And so what did he do? Take your coat?” Wilson reached for her lapel.

“Yes, the coat was the first to go.”

Wilson took her coat, tossing it on a chair. “And what next? The hat?”

“Very good. It was the hat that was next to go.”

Wilson took her hat. “I bet the shirt was next.”

“You are a mind reader,” she nodded.

I watched as Wilson relived the first moments I had spent with Nicole, mentally jotting details, thinking it was amusing that I would later write the same scene twice, but with different male leads.

Soon, Nicole was nude but for her heels.

“Did he leave the heels for last?” Wilson asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh, yeah. They look so hot,” he said, holding her waist. “That’s just what I would’ve done.”

“Evidently,” she said, kissing him.

I left them alone. I went to the bar and poured a bourbon.

When I returned, I watched them take one last tumble. I put down my glass and picked up my camera.




As they lay in one another’s arms afterwards, I told Wilson it was time for him to go.

He kissed Nicole and dressed. I walked him to the door. He shook my hand.

“I didn’t want to say this in front of her,” he whispered. “I didn’t know if it would be appropriate. But I know other hot girls who would love this.”

I smiled. “I’ve heard that before, handsome man. But play your cards right, and you may’ve just meet your new best friend.”

I kissed him, full on the mouth.

I locked the door behind him and returned to the girl in my bed.