One Tuesday

My friend Molly recently gave me twenty-four hours. Here’s her account of how the time was spent.

It's Monday afternoon. My plane arrives at JFK and I get a cab straight to Jefferson's house. I'm off to play with him for the first time. At camp we didn't play at all. We kissed in Marcus's Whoring Class but that was about it. Since then, we've been chatting online about getting together . . . it is about to happen any minute. I'm excited. But a bit nervous too; what if, after coming all this way, we don’t really have the connection we think we will have? I arrive at his apartment. We talk. Have a drink. We kiss. Oh! . . . mmm . . . our kissing is very hot, memories of that kissing is kind of what triggered us to find each other online and plan to meet up in the first place . . . and here we are. Yes. mmm. Our kissing is sublime.

We head to the bedroom and Jefferson fucks me for the first time. He already knows so much about what turns me on and what I like because I have told him in our online exchanges . . . he is amazing at giving me all that and more. Argh! His hands are magic. He makes me cum over and over and I have hardly been there an hour. I stop worrying about whether or not we will have a "connection" and yes, I think to myself, this is worth flying half way across the world for.

Before my visit, I have also told Jefferson a few things that I've never done but really want to do. Based on my wishlist, Jefferson has made some plans for Tuesday. But right now, on Monday, we are here to get to know each other's touch and taste, to melt into "us" for a few hours.

I am totally exhausted from a big work gig I just finished in England, so all I want to do is fall into a lost and vague zone while Jefferson indulges me with huge amounts of pleasure and small amounts of pain. One minute his fingers are caressing me, then slapping me and roughly grabbing me, then pulling my hair, then inside me then making me scream. It's so easy for me to get disoriented when someone is fucking me as incredibly as Jefferson does. I drift off into another headspace. My jetlag makes me drop in and out of consciousness too. Our fucking goes on all night in between my jetlagged naps. Any moment I wake up, Jefferson is always there to pamper me and make me cum again. I am here for a few days to get lost in this. Fairly quickly I realize what people love about Jefferson. It’s very easy to fall into a deep-felt connection with him as well as have amazing sex. Not really something that happens too often.

For Tuesday, Jefferson has organized some visitors. The first one is a Voyeur. He likes to come over and watch Jefferson fuck girls. Jefferson has told him I like sitting on people's faces, pressing my pussy or my ass hard into their face as they kneel at my feet or lay on their back underneath me. Apparently the Voyeur likes the sound of this . . . and maybe this visit is the one where the Voyeur might actually do more than just watch. Before he arrives, Jefferson and I agree that we are happy to invite him in for more than simply watching if he wants to. We will see how it plays out.

I go buy some champagne for us all, mainly because after much online chat, Jefferson and I are discovering that we really do like being with each other and that alone calls for celebration. I get home with champagne and I put on my black rubber mini dress and boots and we wait for the Voyeur to arrive. He turns up exactly on time and offers me lingerie. I ask him if he would like to get on his knees to give it to me and it seems yes, he would like to do that and kneels in front of me. I look at him down there on his knees at my feet looking up with his very innocent eyes. I like people on their knees at my feet. Mainly because it’s such a perfect position to put a leg either side of their face and take push my pussy and ass into their face.

I take the lingerie and thank him for the gift. I don’t have time to put it on right now because just behind me on the sofa is Jefferson, and I haven’t kissed him enough yet. I turn around and straddle him on my knees as he sits on the sofa. We kiss. I lean forward into Jefferson's face and reach my hand backwards to grab the Voyeur's hair. I pull his head right into my ass. Once I know his face is happily in my ass, I know I can ignore him and I go back to kissing Jefferson. The Voyeur groans with pleasure.

We all head to the bedroom with our champagne, My rubber dress comes off. Jefferson tells the Voyeur to lay on his back on the bed. I kneel over him so his face is only a few inches under my pussy. Jefferson starts to fuck me from behind and the Voyeur gets to watch in a close-up view as Jefferson's cock thrusts in and out of my cunt. I look down to see what he can see. God. It's so hot, and he's SO into it. He is groaning at the sight of Jefferson's dick in my cunt and his tongue is reaching up to lick me. Everything we invite the Voyeur to do, he does. I think he likes this participation thing. We kiss. He goes down on me. I go down on him. He thrusts his dick hard into my mouth. He starts to lose it. Jefferson orders him to cum on my face. I lay my head back and he cums all over my face within seconds. His cum is in my mouth on my cheeks, in my hair. Everywhere.

The Voyeur needs to go take a shower . . . he has to get ready to go back to work. Jefferson and I stay in bed. We start fucking. The Voyeur comes back and takes a seat in the corner to watch. Jefferson is fucking me so hard, and I like the idea of the Voyeur being there watching in the corner. I slide my hand down my stomach and push my fingers down behind the top of my pubic bone. It pushes onto the top of my g-spot and makes Jefferson's cock hit it harder. I keep my hand there pushing down and Jefferson fucks me and I orgasm. Very loudly. It shudders though me over and over. This turns the Voyeur on so much, we look over and notice he is stroking his (once again) hard cock. We invite him over to the bed. We all go down on each other. Within minutes, the Voyeur cums all over my face again. Twice in an hour and a half. This time he really has to go back to work. I say, "I hope you had a nice lunch break.”

He says, "Yes, it was a great way to spend my birthday"

Birthday? Well, gee, if we knew it was his birthday, we would've done something really special for him. Maybe next time.

Jefferson and I go out for dinner, its really only mid-afternoon but I am on London time and I'm starving. We have a most beautiful dinner date. We feel so comfortable with each other and we've got loads of things to talk about—our work, sex and relationships and just everything. We walk home. It's only about seven thirty at night, but it's dark and cold and we hold each other close as we talk and walk through the streets to Jefferson's house. In a few hours time we have another date. It's a double penetration date. At ten o'clock, I will be getting fucked in the pussy and the ass by Jefferson and a guy who he calls in for DP adventures.

We arrive home and fuck on the sofa. I still have the carpet burn scar on my leg to remind me of that one. We fall asleep in each other’s arms. The doorbell rings. Jefferson jumps up but I am in a deep jetlag sleep. He tries to shake me, but I am so out of it, I have no idea where I am and no idea if it is morning or night. Then I hear someone come in the door and start talking with Jefferson. Fuck! I suddenly remember: it's the DP dude. I am about to get fucked in two holes. But I am so sleepy. I feel like I have been run over by a truck. Fuck. I better wake up.

The DP dude is very cute. Like, super cute. He's funny too. Our fields of work are similar and we chat and laugh. We all kiss on the couch. We can tell we are going to have fun. We move to the bedroom and there's lots of very hot cock sucking. The DP dude is good at sucking Jefferson's dick. And pretty good at licking my pussy too.

The dude is on the bed on his back, I climb on top of him. He's super kissable and we get lost in each other while Jefferson works me from behind getting ready to put his dick in my ass. Supposedly the plan is to get the dude fucking me in the pussy like an "anchor" first, and then Jefferson will come in and fuck me in the ass. But all the plans fly out the window as the spontaneity of it all takes over. Jefferson is first inside me. His cock is deep in my asshole and he is fucking me for a few minutes before the DP dude enters my pussy. I'd never done this DP thing before. It feels amazing and quite overwhelming . . . I'm breathing and groaning and getting taken by surprise at how amazing it all is . . . the two boys are getting their rhythm working so well, and I just start really flying. In my confused state, I look at the DP dude and mumble "What’s going on now?" He says something like, "Well Molly, you've got two cocks inside you at the same time, I am fucking in your pussy and he is fucking you in your ass, and that's what is going on now." And it’s all too much! I have an orgasm that makes my entire body shake for minutes and minutes and minutes. Mmm. I liked that. I'm a total mess.

Afterwards we all sit on the balcony and talk and smoke and drink. Every now and then a wave of remembering what that just felt like washes over me. I think to myself . . . Fuck! That was hot. I liked that a lot.

Mmmmm. Tuesday at Jefferson’s was a very fun day.

HNT

It was a pleasure to meet Eliza and William of Horny Female Pervert when they stopped by to audition their nascent live sex show. I played the unaccustomed role of observer, so I was glad they brought bourbon for me to sip as I sat in my bedroom’s voyeurs’ chair. That made me feel right at home—which, of course, I was.

Eliza and William are exhibitionists in search of an audience. I am an audience of one who happens to maintain a retinue of voyeurs, particularly among the membership of the Bukkake Social Club. The couple reasoned that if I enjoyed their show, they might find a place in the fast-growing niche market for live sex performers on my bed.

Their ardor and passion for one another soon had me stroking along. Eliza’s blog can have that same effect. Congratulations, Eliza and William. You’ve earned a call back.

Genie

He hadn’t meant anything by it. Carlos came over to be photographed and maybe have some sex. It was a simple hook up with a camera thrown in.

That simplicity took a different turn when he fucked me. He had given it to me hard, making me cry out as he pulled my hair and came in my face. He was surprised by what that brought out in him.

I was no less surprised by what it brought out in me.

When he was in my bedroom, nude, under my body, stretched out before my camera, I felt entirely at ease. His beauty was soothing and made me feel confident; far from being intimidated by beauty, I am inspired by it. I could shape and mold his flesh to suit my inspiration in the moment.

He was undressed because I undressed him. He gave me kisses because I took them. He flinched under my bites and nibbles, his cock throbbing. My mouth and hands took him to precisely where I wanted him to be. In those moments with Carlos, I was practiced, assured and unrushed, an artist applying well-honed skills to his craft.

This was before he flipped me over and fucked me. As he pushed into me, pinning down my neck, I was momentarily stunned. This never happened—not the fucking, not the loss of composure, not the surrender of my body. Even more unfamiliar was the sense that I wanted it in that moment, badly, and wanted more of it, immediately.

I would see him again. I might even get fucked again. I didn’t regard getting fucked as an act of submission any more than I regarded fucking as an act of domination. Topping or bottoming are not innately acts of dominance or submission.

Even so, I had to wrap my mind around the sensation I felt in that moment when he flipped me. From my place of confidence and strength as I devoured his beauty—that familiar creative zone of domination—I was turned around and made his prey. He had wanted to take me just as intently as I had wanted to take him.

I wanted more of that.

So far as I knew, Carlos had no interest in anything having to do with domination or submission. He may have just been passive by nature and suddenly felt like fucking. But the raw surge of desire I felt as he fucked me, and the ferocity of his response to it, had clearly affected him as well.

True to form, I gravitated back to the top in my subsequent exchanges with Carlos. The prospect of seeing him again had my creative juices flowing. Without quite meaning to, Carlos was pushing me to want something new with him. I wondered if I could push him as well.

Jefferson: Have you ever been with a girl, Carlos?

Carlos: LOL. No, why?

Jefferson: I want you to fuck a girl for me. How about Tuesday?

Carlos: Are you serious? I don’t know . . .

Jefferson: It’s easy as pie. She’s very pretty—green eyes, sandy blonde hair, your age. You’ll be helping me out, since she has a fantasy about taking a gay boy’s virginity.

Carlos: LOL.

Jefferson: Do me this favor.

Carlos: Maybe I’ll just do you instead.

Jefferson: Carlos, God damn it, can’t you please just do what I tell you to do? Please? How fucking hard is that?

Carlos: LOL.

I had to accept that Carlos might not take my bait. At least, not yet. We barely knew one another, so I would just have to wait to find out if he was interested in allowing me to direct him to new experiences. That is, if I continued to hold his interest at all. Still, I couldn’t let rest my compulsion to test the edges of his susceptibility to suggestion.

Jefferson: I want you to come to the next meeting of my Bukkake Social Club.

Carlos: Bukkake?

Jefferson: Yes. You and a bunch of boys will watch me fuck a girl. The boys are all cool and most are bisexual. Eventually, they all jerk off and cum on the girl.

Carlos: Hot!!

Jefferson: Right? It’s damned hot. And I promise, I won’t make you fuck the girl.

Carlos: LOL. Cool, sounds good.

I considered this a good compromise. He might have had it in mind to fuck me, but this time, he would be watching me fuck a woman. This was something he had never done, nor seen done.

I realized that this invitation put him in the position of a voyeur. I had found myself craving his cock in me. Perhaps that craving now had me trying to put the genie back in the bottle by keeping him in a passive position—or at least by creating a situation in which I would be in charge.

Unfortunately, I could not be in charge of other people’s schedules. It was summer and many of the bukkake club members were out of town or otherwise engaged. Late on the day we planned to meet, I decided that we had too few confirmed responses and cancelled the session. I sent an email to the gentlemen and asked my invited guest to join me later that night for dinner and a sleepover.

I reported the news to Carlos.

Carlos: Too bad. That sounded hot. You still want to meet? I’m so horny today.

Of course, I agreed.

I smiled when I saw him in my peephole. We kissed lightly at the door. I offered him a glass of water as he sat on the couch.

We talked about his day. He talked about his weekend playing tennis with his brother and sister. He touched my face, gently, and kissed me.

My hands searched out his body under his clothes.

In my bedroom, he was passive, as before. He allowed me to undress him, closing his eyes as I toured his body with my touch and my mouth. I took my time, as he showed no sign of hurry.

I held the base of his skull in my hand, swirling my tongue around his throat, when the phone rang. It signaled a guest at the door.

“One sec.” I leaned over his body to reach the receiver. “Yes? Oh, hi . . . did you . . . okay, come on up.” I buzzed the front door open.

Carlos was watching me. I grinned sheepishly.

“What was that?”

“Sight complication.” I leaned to kiss his lips. “You ever been watched before?”

“Watched? You mean, during sex? Uh, no . . .”

I sat up and reached for my shorts. “Cool. That’s about to change.”

His eyes followed me as I left the room.

I opened the front door as the doorbell rang. “Hi Eric, good to see you again.”

“Hey man, good to see you.” Eric took my hand as he entered. His palm was damp from the heat. He looked around the living room. “Am I the first?”

“First and only, I’m afraid. Did you walk here?”

“Yeah, it’s only a couple of miles . . .”

“Then I think you missed my late email. I’m sorry, but we had to cancel at the last minute.”

Eric face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad.” He looked around. “I had sort of saved it up for this.”

“Well, never fear. I’m fooling around with one of the guys in the back. You’re welcome to stay to watch that—you know, as a consolation prize.”

He wiped his forehead. “Huh. Really? Well, sure, okay.”

“Good.” I smiled. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.” I led the way to my bedroom.

“Carlos? I’d like you to meet Eric. Eric, this is Carlos.”

Carlos sat up quickly. His eyes looked over my shoulders to Eric. He could see us both as we entered, as Eric is a good head taller than me.

“Oh, uh, hey.”

“Hey.”

“My apologies that Carlos is already naked,” I said, pulling off my shirt. “We were just . . . you know.” I dropped my shorts and sat next to Carlos.

“No, that’s cool.” Eric looked around. “So should I . . . ?”

“Yes, please.” I waved a hand to the chair beside my bed. “Make yourself comfortable in your voyeur’s seat. We’ll simply resume.”

Eric stepped out of his sneakers. I leaned forward to kiss Carlos. He kissed me back, his eyes on Eric.

I was going to enjoy this.

Eric had been watching me fuck women for over a year. He was quiet and handsome, with a tall athletic body that invariably caught the glances of the other bukkake club members and our female guests. I was touched by his respectful demeanor and returned it with similar manners. He was always a welcome guest in my home.

Carlos had never been watched. I was about to choreograph him through his first live sex show.

I paused as my lips trailed down Carlos’s sternum. “You’ve never watched two boys, have you, Eric?”

He coughed slightly. “No. I mean, porn and stuff, but . . .”

“Oh, I didn’t know you liked that kind of porn.” Carlos twitched as I brushed my cheek across his smooth belly. “I mean, you’re straight and all. Have you ever done much with boys?”

“No.” Eric watched my hand gently pump Carlos’s cock. “A foursome once, but the other guy and me . . . well, we didn’t do much . . .”

“Huh, that sounds really hot,” I nodded, taking Carlos’s cock in my mouth. He sighed and fell back.

I already knew the answers to the questions I asked Eric. My interview was primarily intended for Carlos’s edification and arousal.

My hands cupped his hips as I pulled him deep into me.

Hmm, Carlos, I thought as my tongue waved under him. Let me do things with you.

I looked up. Carlos was watching Eric. I knew Eric’s rhythms well enough to know what had caught Carlos’s eyes. I glanced over to see Eric stroking his cock, his shorts open at the zipper.

I dropped Carlos’s cock from my mouth and crawled up his body. I turned my head to rest my cheek against his. “I forgot to mention that Eric has an enormous cock. Amazing, right?”

Carlos stared ahead. I ground my cock against his. “Yeah.”

Eric stroked faster as we watched.

I sat back on my heels. I pressed Carlos’s thighs back. “I really like to have Eric watch when I’m fucking,” I said, pressing against Carlos’s hole. “He really gets off on it.”

The only sound from Eric’s chair was the friction in his palm.

Carlos barely noticed as I reached for lube and a condom. Eric’s eyes moved from Carlos’s torso to his ass I lubed him.

This time, Carlos raised no protests about being fucked.

I held my slippery head at the edge of his well-greased hole and pushed. “Unh,” Carlos sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, so tight . . .”

I smiled. “Yes, baby, you are incredibly tight.” I pushed forward, gradually giving him the full length of my cock.

“Shit,” Eric whispered.

I looked at him as I slowly pumped. “He has such a tight hole, man.” I pushed Carlo’s leg up to afford a better view for Eric. “See? I’m having to be so gentle.”

“Fuck,” Eric whispered.

I looked down to Carlos’s face. His eyes were closed. He bit his lip.

I pushed back on his thighs, fucking harder.

He turned his face. His brown eyes bore into me.

I fucked him harder still, pivoting my hips.

Carlos turned to watch Eric. I preferred to give Eric his privacy and focused on Carlos.

I barely noticed when Eric removed his shirt. Carlos began to stroke himself.

I pulled Carlos to the edge of the bed. I stood, grabbed his hips, and plowed forcefully.

I heard Eric’s breath accelerate. I knew the sound of his orgasm. I turned slightly to be sure he had a fine line of sight.

“Unh, unh, unh!” Eric grunted.

Carlos pivoted his head. “Do you want to cum on my chest?”

Eric raised a hand and looked at it as though he didn’t recognize it as his own. It dripped on his lap. “Uh, well, I just came.” He reached for a tissue.

“Carlos.” My voice was low.

He looked up at me.

“Carlos,” I said. “Now you cum.”

He nodded. His hand reached for his cock. I looked down to see that he wasn’t fully erect. I spit at his balls. He nodded again, taking up my saliva as his lube.

Eric watched as Carlos shot across his chest and belly.

“Fuck,” Eric murmured.

I leaned forward to kiss Carlos. I kissed him deeply, pressing my body against his, smearing his cum between us. “You are very beautiful, Carlos.”

He looked up. “Thanks.”

I kissed his forehead and stood. I edged my cock out of him and tugged off the condom. I fell back on the bed.

“Whew!” I exhaled, looking at Eric.

“Aren’t you going to cum?” Carlos asked.

“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “Date night.”

Eric laughed. “Anyone I know?”

I looked at the ceiling. “Hmm, probably. You’ve must’ve seen me fuck most of the women I know.”

“That’s awesome.” Eric stood and reached for his shirt. “Well, thanks for the show, guys.”

“You’re leaving?” Carlos asked.

Eric looked at me, his face looking slightly awkward. “Yes, Eric has places to be,” I smiled. “Here, let me show our company to the door.” I picked up my shorts and leaned to kiss Carlos. “Back in a moment.”

At the door, I shook Eric’s hand. “Thanks for being so understanding about the change of plans.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” he smiled. “I’d like to see that again, if that’s cool.”

I patted his back. “I’m pretty sure Carlos would like that too.” I opened the door. “Next time, Eric.”

“Thanks. See you soon.”

I undressed again before getting back into bed with Carlos. Wordlessly, I kissed him.

“That was very nice, Carlos.” I kissed him again.

“That was really hot,” he nodded. “How do you know him?”

“I know people.” I ran a finger on his arm and kissed his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me fuck you. I knew he would get off on that. And . . . “ I kissed his cheek. “So did I.”

“It was nice,” he said. “Sorry if I was too tight. It’s just been a while.”

“You don’t bottom much?”

“Not any more. I mean, it used to be all I did. Everyone assumed I was a bottom, I guess because I’m young and the way I look or whatever. But I tried topping and I really liked it. So that’s what I do.”

I nodded. “You top really well. And you bottom well, too. You’re lucky—I’m a terrible bottom.”

He laughed. “I thought you were pretty good.”

I grimaced and looked away. “No, that’s nice, thanks, but I know I’m really bad at it.” I sighed. “I guess I just don’t do it enough to get any good.”

Carlos smiled. “Then you should do it more.”

Maybe Carlos could take my bait after all. I leaned forward and pressed him back. I lay over him and kissed his lips.

“Carlos,” I murmured. “I want to be versatile, just like you.”

He grabbed my ass and laughed.

Fleshbot and Spring Fever

This week’s Sex Blog Roundup at Fleshbot surrenders center stage to the exhibitionists, those show-offs who enjoy posing and being watched, even in the most compromising of positions.

Speaking of show-offs, look at me! Look at me!

I’ve already given you Lily’s story of her first orgy at my place. Those of you who enjoy stalking me will also find me leaving ThatGirl with a favorable impression, and enjoying a sweet hug with Cody.

And am I mistaken, or is that slutty Suzanne Portnoy flirting with me?

Maybe she’s got Spring fever.

Which reminds me: the pigeons are roosting, the dandelions are peeking through, and New Yorkers are wearing lighter shades of black. That means Spring is here, and with it comes my annual call for a Spring Fling.

That’s right—maybe you could be Jefferson’s sweetheart.

Two winners—one female, one male—will be chosen. For three whirlwind weeks this spring, each of these lucky winners will be treated to all the fine loving Jefferson can muster.

Of course, three weeks can lead to more. Last year’s female winner was Avah, and Cody won for the boys (there being no more suitable candidates among the biological males). Both are still around a year later.

You want long walks, quiet conversation and sweet kisses? Say the word.

Need to feel the lash now and then? It’s yours.

Hungry for the flesh buffet of an orgy? Help yourself.

You decide what you want. Jefferson will take care of what you need.

To be considered, send the following to onelifetaketwo@gmail.com.

1. A recent photograph.

2. A description of yourself, including experiences and interests.

3. A brief text outlining why you should be chosen as Jefferson’s spring fling.

Remember: you can’t win if you don’t apply.

Good luck!

Contest remains open until winners are announced. Must be eighteen or older to enter. Winners must live in the New York City region, or relocate at their own expense. Previous winners need not apply. Void where prohibited.

Many will enter, few will win.

Omelettes

I sat on the bed next to Fawn as her face emerged from a t-shirt.

“Your hair is a mess,” I smiled, tucking a black strand behind her ear.

“Sorry,” she grinned nervously, looking away. She ran her fingers through her hair and looked up at me. Her pale blue eyes were clear and unblinking.

“So . . . ,” she began. Her hands dropped to her bare lap and rested there, palms up. “Anyway, this is me.”

My hand moved down her neck to her shoulder. “And this is us—alone, finally.”

“Yeah, I know. So, um, I’m sorry I’m not skinny,” she said. She nodded to the door. “Like Jenn.”

I touched her cheek with my fingers. “Jenn seems very nice. She obviously cares about you.”

“Yeah, Jenn’s cool.” Fawn looked to her palms. Her face turned to rest in the cup of my palm. She closed her eyes.

I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Hey.”

She looked up. “Yeah?”

“Jenn’s here because she knows you wanted to be here.” I stroked her black hair. “You’re here because you wanted to be here. You’re here because I wanted you here.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

I smiled. “Good.” I leaned forward. Our lips met.

As we kissed, my fingers traveled lightly over her body, now bare but for her panties. She touched my t-shirt and felt the fabric of my pajamas.

I inhaled deeply as she quivered, savoring her response to my touch.

Her hand found my cock, hard inside my clothes.

I listened as I entered her. I moved slowly into her body, imagining my cock as an expansive tendril that would grow long and fat to fill her entirely, or to retract at any hesitation.

She breathed deeply, holding my shoulders firm as, for the second time in her life, her body took another body into her.

I rested in Fawn, listening to her breath. My face was nestled into her neck. I pulled back to look into her face. Her eyes were tightly closed.

“Hey.”

She opened her eyes. She turned her chin down, smiling slyly. I grinned, suspecting that she was giving me a look practiced in mirrors and webcams.

“Does this feel good?” I asked, moving gently inside her body.

She laughed. “Are you kidding? This is amazing.”

“Oh yeah?” I kissed her nose. “How about this?”

I fucked her with more vigor, pulling back, pushing forward.

“Oh, God yeah.” She laughed again.

“All right.” I sat back, pushing her thighs forward. I raised her ankles to my lips, lightly kissing her left calf. My cock pressed up and deep into her. I rocked back and forth. “And this?”

She looked up at me as her mouth dropped. “Oh . . . fuck yeah.”

I caressed her face. “That’s all I need to know, Fawn. You can just relax now while we fuck.”

We had our basic vocabulary. We were close and tender. We were hot and rough. We were submissive and dominant.

It only takes three letters to spell “l-u-v.”

We had traded so many mash notes to finally be here, in my bed, after midnight with her friends making out in the next room.

Fawn wanted to trade in her inexperience and add luster to the novice’s sexual resume she had amassed with her first high school boyfriend. I wanted her to trust me and to be content that she had made the right decision in being with me—and perhaps, along the way, to add a few notches to the brand-new bedpost of her sexuality.

After our first hour and change, we peeled our bodies apart.

“You still doing okay?” I panted.

“Oh yeah, my God,” she said, catching her breath. “That was . . . this is . . .”

I took her hand. “Right?”

We lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I looked to my clock.

“Look, it’s really late. Let’s sleep. But look, I’m probably going to wake you for sex at three or four. So don’t be surprised.”

She laughed. I liked her laugh, especially now that I heard it so often. “That is fine by me.”

“Good.” I turned to curl against her. I yawned. “If you need me, or you wake up and I’m hard, just elbow me and climb on.”

She put a hand to my head, suddenly maternal. “Shhh, you just sleep.”

I was out immediately.

We woke up fucking. One of us initiated it. Hard to say who did what, as we were both asleep.

The next morning, my face was buried between her legs when I heard giggles. I looked up. Shapes scurried past the open bedroom door.

One of us must’ve gone to the bathroom overnight and left the door ajar. Or maybe it had been pushed open.

Her friends had watched as my mouth pulled orgasms from Fawn.

“Oh shit, did they really see me?” she asked, coiling her legs to her torso.

“Uh, maybe,” I said, pulling her to me. “Was that embarrassing?”

She looked to one side. “Do you think they saw my chest?”

The focus of her bashfulness seemed a tad incongruous, given that I was licking her pussy when the giggles passed by. Still, I could see she was unnerved by the prospect of having her breasts exposed.

“I suppose so.” I pinched a nipple. “Here, let me close the door.”

I closed the bedroom door and came back to her. She relaxed as we kissed.

I went down on her again.

She gushed in my mouth. I waited a moment before I made her do it again.

I kissed my way up her body.

“Wow,” she said, glancing at a clock. “That’s a record. Ten times in one hou . . .”

Her voice trailed as I entered her.

She rested her eyes on mine as my palm squeezed a breast.

Fawn stayed in bed as I emerged to face the music.

“Hey,” Jenn grinned. “You two were pretty noisy in there.”

I shrugged. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

Paolo laughed. “Shit, man.” He held out his palm. I shook his hand.

“Coffee?” I asked.

Fawn came out of the bedroom fully dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. She sat next to Jenn on the couch as I rattled pans in the kitchen.

I prepared a breakfast of omelettes with thyme and sweet sausage, bacon and toast. Jenn said it was the best omelette she had ever been served.

Paolo watched as I made them. I talked him through the steps.

After breakfast, Paolo and Jenn disappeared for a while. I sat talking with Fawn. The vulnerability of the early morning was gone. She was once more locked up in her clothes, her body, her veneer.

I kept my blue eyes on her pale mirrors. I held her hand. We talked about things, passing the time.

It took Jenn forever to locate her cell phone, but she found it.

At the door, I kissed Jenn’s cheek and hugged Paolo as he pulled me close, once, strong and tight.

I kissed Fawn’s lips, soft and slow.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“Shit, thank you,” she said, dropping her forehead to my lips.

Later, Fawn phoned to say they returned home with no mishaps.

It turned out that it was the carburetor, and it cost less than a hundred dollars to repair.

Jenn dumped her boyfriend and hooked up with Paolo.

Jenn and Fawn had a falling out. They were no longer best friends forever.

Fawn made plans to see me again. A few weeks later, she had a new boyfriend.

I never saw her again, as she doesn’t cheat.

I’m her friend. I wouldn’t want her to cheat.

As I made breakfast that morning after meeting Fawn, I reflected on an unexpected threshold I had crossed. In my nascent career as a chicken hawk, I had reached a new apex—or nadir, depending on one’s point of view.

I had now slept with someone younger than my eldest daughter.