Initiation

The annual sex issue of Time Out New York mentioned the Bukkake Social Club I host. Not surprisingly, I received a number of emails from people interested in meeting me or joining the club. The following caught my eye:

I read about you in Time Out and I am interested in attending the next gathering.

I'm thirty-one, bi, African American and female. Is there anything else you need? Here's a pic as confirmation that I am of age. I've never done anything like this before.

Take care,
Bijou

Attached was a snapshot of a smiling face, partially obscured by a flash reflected in a mirror. I noticed the email address Bijou had used to contact me. It included her last name and her place of employment. First name, surname, workplace, photograph—I now had all the information I needed to stalk her and possibly get her fired.

At least, that’s what a bad person might do. Fortunately for Bijou, I am not a bad person. I fuck people and I write smut. I’m a good person.

I thanked Bijou for her note and asked why the club appealed to her. Each club meeting features a female special guest of honor whom I fuck as club members watch and jerk off, ultimately dousing her in jism. Did she want to attend as a voyeur or as a guest of honor?

She was interested in watching. Her attraction to voyeurism was new and she wanted to pursue it.

To be honest, I told her, most of the club members are men. But we welcome women, and there are some female regulars. She was interested in knowing more, so we agreed to meet after work. I offered my place, but after reading my blog, she was wary of stepping into my iniquitous den sight unseen. I suggested that we meet in a park. We set a time and place. She gave me her number. I added that to all the information that she had given me, reckoning I now had enough to find her home address, her mother’s maiden name and her credit rating—but only if I knew how to use Google.

The sun was dipping below the tree line as she approached my park bench. I waved, knowing that all she had ever seen of me is my mouth, two fingers and a thumb. She smiled and waved back. I stood and reached up to kiss her cheek. I rested a hand briefly on her braided hair.

“Jefferson! I feel like I know so much about you from your blog.”

“And there you have me at a disadvantage, Bijou. I know nothing about you. Let’s go sit on the grass and fix that.”

“Oh, that’s right, I’m just someone who sent you an email, right? I bet that happens all the time.” We walked toward a knoll shaded from the setting sun.

“I like mail. So, what made you write?”

“Hmmm, I guess that’s a complicated thing,” she began. “I just haven’t had that many experiences and I think it’s time to change that. I mean, I’m over thirty and it’s like I’m still waiting to discover what sex is all about. So maybe I’ll know more if I stop waiting and do something.” She paused. “Oh, and hello!” she laughed. “I don’t know you and I’m telling you all this stuff. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, really. That part I’m used to. Strangers often tell me all about their sexuality. It’s like ‘howtcha do’ to me.” We found a place to sit. As we watched shirtless men play Frisbee, she began to interview me about my blog. I’m comfortable talking about that, so I answered questions about its origins, my orgies, and how I manage to stay sane with so many lovers.

“I’m envious,” she said. “I don’t think I could ever do any of that. It’s something I’d like in some ways, I think . . . though, you know, on a more human scale.” I laughed. “But it’s not like I’d do anything about it. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Well, you wrote to me, and that’s doing something.”

“Yeah, but please. I’m over thirty and I’ve only been with, like, three people.”

“That must’ve been some night,” I exclaimed.

“No,” she laughed. “It wasn’t all at once.”

“So how many years were with your poly foursome?”

“No, no.” Her laugh gave over to a smile. “No, I mean, I’ve only been with three people, ever. At different times.”

“Oh, now I get it.” I smiled. I watched as a long-haired fellow jumped to catch a Frisbee. He hurled it back before landing on his feet. “Well, if you had good experiences with your three lovers, that’s great. It’s not about accumulating numbers or anything. It’s about what you enjoy.”

Her eyes followed mine. A girl in a bikini jumped to catch the toss. “Yeah, I enjoyed it. I mean, they were women I liked. I just wish I had known more about how to please them.”

I turned to her. “Your three people were all women?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s cool,” I nodded. “But in your note, you said you were bi. If your experience is with women, why don’t you identify as lesbian?”

She shifted, turning to me and folding her legs. “See, that’s just it. I know I’m attracted to men. I’m curious about it. But I’ve just never really had the opportunity to do anything about it. Women, though, you know, that’s easier.”

I faced her. “Okay, so at present, you’re a bi-curious lesbian-oriented bisexual virgin?”

She laughed. “I guess you could say that.”

My face grew solemn. “You must say that,” I intoned. “Labels are very, very important.” She laughed again. “I’m serious,” I went on. “If you don’t wear your sexuality as a badge, how can you know who you are?”

She grinned. “Funny. But yeah, I’m not worried about who I am.”

“In all seriousness, that’s pretty clear.” I looked back the Frisbee players. “Virgin, huh?”

She picked up a stone and tossed it. “I’m not having sex with you.”

“You’re rather presumptuous,” I chided. “Who says I’m interested?”

“What?” she pouted. “I’m not pretty enough for you?”

“Are you kidding?” I looked at her. “You’re hot. You know that, don’t you?”

“I guess. I mean, I hear that. People say it. I guess I could have sex if I wanted to, but, I don’t know, I haven’t met a guy that makes me want to. Plus, I’m just not that turned on by the thought of penetration.”

“So you’d want a guy, but not necessarily to fuck? There’s so much you can do that doesn’t include that, but it’s true, most guys won’t get that right off.”

“That’s true.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “I mean, who knows, I might find I like it more than I expect. What do I know? I wouldn’t know what to do, probably. I’ve never even seen a penis.”

“Never?”

“Nope. I mean, I’ve seen pictures and porn, but not in person.”

“Never? As it, not once? No brothers or cousins or high school romance, or . . .”

“Nope. Never.”

“Wow,” I nodded. “You’ve got so many cherries, it’s like a grove of virginities.”

“Right? That’s what I mean. I’d better get on that. So tell me more about this bukkake thing?”

I lay back on my elbows and told her a few anecdotes from past sessions. She listened intently as I described how an event usually transpired, and the times we make exceptions to the rules, as when I put on show with two women, or the time Leah decided to bring Jacob into the show.

After a while, she turned to watch the Frisbee players as I told her a story of sex she had only seen in porn. “That’s incredible,” she said. “And I can’t believe that was really you. I mean, you seem so normal.”

“Sex is pretty normal,” I shrugged.

“Yeah, but not everyone has sex for an audience.”

“True enough,” I conceded.

She nodded and we fell silent. After a moment, she pulled out her phone. “Hmmm, five forty . . . do you live near here?”

I glanced at her. “I do.”

“I have a class at seven, but I would kind of like to see your place. Can we go over there?”

“Sure, it’s close.” I stood and offered my hand. “Let’s go.”

She took my hand. “I’m not having sex with you,” she reiterated.

“That’s established,” I said. “Anyway, if you ever decided to give me your virginity, we’d need more than a quickie. I’d want that to be a good, long time.”

“Ha, that’s sweet.” We began to walk. “It’s not happening, but that’s nice of you to say.”

As we walked, I surmised correctly that this was the first time she had met anyone online. I encouraged her to be more careful in revealing her personal information, and to get a separate email account that didn’t include her name or workplace. She thanked me for the advice, adding that she really did have a lot to learn.

I unlocked the door at my place, and gestured for her to enter. She stepped in and looked around my living room. “Nice place,” she said. “Huh, you’ve got a lot of books.”

“Just props to impress girls,” I smiled. “Care for the full tour?” I showed her around, relating rooms and furnishings to stories on my blog—the bed that replaced the most recent one broken, the voyeur’s chair, the folding taco futon of death. We returned to the living room to talk.

“It’s so surreal,” she said, her eyes on a vase of flowers. “It’s just so . . . normal. You’re normal, your place is normal.” She paused and looked at me. “And you have so much sex!”

“Yeah, a regular rabbit in sheep’s clothing, that’s me.”

We continued to talk about sex. She asked me questions which I typically answered with examples and stories. Mindful of her class, I kept an eye on the clock. At six thirty, I let her know the time and suggested she may need to be on her way.

She agreed and stood to leave. I sat forward, preparing to walk her to the door. She turned and said, suddenly, “I’m not having sex with you.”

“Obviously,” I said. “There’s no time.”

“I know, but . . . look.” She sat down. “Can I please see your penis?”

I laughed. “Seriously?”

“Did that sound weird?” She laughed. “I know, of course it did. But I thought, well, I’m here, you’re here, and, well . . . I’ve never seen one. Do you mind?”

I patted her hand. “Not a problem. One cherry, gone, that easily.” I stood and posed facing her. I pulled off my t-shirt and tossed it to a chair. Her eyes fell to my torso. I placed my feet squarely under my shoulders and unbuttoned my shorts. Her eyes watched my fingers closely. I dropped my hands. “Oh, I’m not sure you really want to see this penis,” I teased.

“Oh, come on!” she laughed nervously. “Please, that’s mean.”

“Okay, okay. No more jokes. Just penis.” I unzipped my shorts. They dropped to the floor. I stepped free of them, moving slightly closer to her. I put my hands on my hips and let her get an eye full.

“God. Wow.” She sat on the edge of her seat. “Thanks, that’s just . . . wow.”

“So glad you like. May I sit down?”

“Oh, sure,” she said, her eyes never leaving my cock. I moved to the couch and sat an arm’s length from her. I leaned back to give her an unobstructed view, folding my arms behind my head. Moments passed. “Wow,” she finally exhaled. “It’s amazing that it’s just . . . there.”

“Yeah, how about that?” I said, looking down. “Naked dick is awesome.”

She leaned forward. “Do you think . . . would you mind if I touched it?”

“I wish you would,” I smiled. “I’d like that.”

She looked up at my face. “Do you have a condom?”

I laughed. “You want me to wear a condom for a handjob?”

Her face flushed. “Oh, it’s just . . . well, I don’t know you, and . . .”

I patted her hand again. “No, it’s cool. I don’t mind. I’ll be back in a second.” I went to my bedroom and returned with a condom foil. I sat again, this time a little closer to her. “Now, you may not realize this, but it’s difficult to get a condom on a flaccid penis. Do you mind if I stroke myself to get hard?”

She smiled. “Seriously? That would be hot. I can watch?”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s hot for me, too.” I began to tug on my cock, feeling it begin to react. “Say, it would also help if we kissed . . .”

“Oh, no,” she said, pulling back. “I can only do that if I love someone.”

“This isn’t love?” I joked. “I feel so used . . .”

“Yeah, like you don’t like that,” she laughed. I smiled and returned to the task at hand. Knowing that this was her initiation in cock was enough to get me hard quickly. It was also arousing to think of the way she valued her kisses. I looked up to her soft, full lips. She didn’t notice; her gaze was entirely ensnared by my hand twisting up and down my shaft.

“Right.” I sighed quietly. “Now comes the condom. Watch carefully.” I scarcely needed to encourage her. She seemed hesitant to blink. I demonstrated how to roll on a condom, and gave myself some more long, slow strokes. “Okay,” I offered, removing my hand. “Enjoy yourself.”

“Wow. Okay.” She moved forward. “It’s just amazing. It really did get bigger.”

“Uh huh.” I returned my palms to the back of my head.

“So much bigger.” She slowly reached out, stopping just before she touched me. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“It’s my pleasure,” I smiled.

She laughed slightly, drew a breath, and touched my cock. Her fingers moved around the condom, shifting the flesh underneath. “Look, it’s like, soft. The skin is soft, even though you’re hard.”

“That’s right. And here, check this out.” I lead her finger to my cock’s center and bottom. “Feel how soft that is? Now feel either side.”

She followed my guiding fingers. “Wow, is that . . . it's not really bone, is it?”

“Nope, not bone. It’s more like a sponge that gets rigid when filled with blood. That softer part in the middle is the urethra.”

She nodded, paying more attention to her fingers than my words. I dropped my hand from hers as she continued to touch and explore. After delicately fingering me for some time, she looked at me and began to imitate my strokes. “Does this feel good?” she asked. “Like this?”

“That feels great. Let me show you something.” I took her index finger and placed if under the head. “Feel this part right here? That’s the most sensitive part and, on most men, stimulating that is going to trigger an orgasm.” I led her finger to the head. “This part? It’s very sensitive. When I’m aroused, it’s almost too sensitive. So when you stroke, focus on the bit under the head, and avoid too much attention to the head itself.” I released her finger. She returned to jerking me.

“Like this?” she asked.

“Just like that. A little less pressure . . . okay. Now that’s perfect.” I sat back and let her give her first handjob.

I sighed softly. “Are you going to cum?” she asked.

“Um, no, I’m not. The condom reduces sensation, so I’m not sure if I can cum from a handjob when I’m wearing one. Anyway, I’ve got a date tonight, so I need to hold off.”

“Oh.” She stroked me with a lighter touch. “So if you came now, you wouldn't be able to later?”

“Different with different guys. With me, yeah, it would be harder to do it again later.”

“Oh.” She watched my cock move in her hand. “That’s too bad. I’d really like to see you cum.”

“Then you’ll have to come back,” I nodded.

“Yeah, come back,” she murmured.

I gave her some more time with my cock before reminding her of her class. “Yeah . . .” she replied. She sat back suddenly. “Oh yeah, I need to go.” She quickly removed her hand, leaving my cock to flop like a metronome. She stood and looked around, as if coming out of a spell. She looked at her hand. “Hey, do you have a bathroom?”

“I do. It’s down the hall.” She hurried away. I heard the sound of running water as she washed her hands vigorously. I stood and dressed. She returned and I showed her to the door. I kissed her cheek and held out my hand. “Nice to meet you. Let’s do it again soon.”

She looked at my hand. “Soon, yeah. Um, do you mind if we don’t shake hands? I just . . .”

“Understood.” I opened the door. “Enjoy your next class.”

“Thanks.” She smiled wanly as she rushed out the door.

A few weeks later, my doorbell rang. “Holy hell,” I said. I stopped what I was doing, walked to the door and glanced through the peephole. I stood behind the door as I opened it. “You’re late,” I scolded.

“I’m sorry,” Bijou apologized. “Is it too late?”

I held up my hands. “What do you think?”

She looked down and laughed. I was nude but for the condom on my erection. “Just like I remembered you,” she giggled.

“Funny. All right, come along.” I led her down the hall to my bedroom. I entered the room just ahead of her. “Everyone, this is Bijou. Bijou, welcome to the club.”

She looked around. There were six naked men jerking off. They looked over the fully dressed woman at the door. “Uh . . . hi, everyone,” she said, waving slightly.

“Nice to meet you,” Ted replied, dropping his cock to wave back.

The woman on the bed raised her head. “Hey, how are you?” she asked.

“I’m good,” Bijou replied, staring as the first cock she had ever seen vanished into the body of a woman she had just met.

“I’m good, too,” the woman said. “Hey, we’ll talk later. I’m kind of getting fucked now. Nice to meet you, though.”

“You too . . . ,” Bijou began. Her voice trailed off as she took a seat in the voyeur’s chair, her eyes unblinking.

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.

Milk

Her skin was milky, I thought, just as Tess had said.

As Gina sat talking, I reflected on Tess’s description of her new girlfriend: “God, her skin—so pale and translucent, so milky!”

I sipped my bourbon, listening.

Gina sat very erect as we talked about books. She had browsed my bookcases and asked what I was reading. I pointed to my copy of Saul Bellow’s Adventures of Augie March. She reads my blog, so she knew that it had been recommended to me.

Gina told me she had just picked up a new book of erotica.

“Oh, right, of course you read erotica,” I smiled.

“That’s how I met you,” she nodded. “And Tess.”

“Tess is lovely,” I said. “She giggles if you look at her crooked, which is hot.”

Gina laughed. “She’s a good writer, too. So, what else do you read? Do you read science fiction at all?” she asked.

“No,” I said, hoping my eyelids didn’t flutter. “I mean, I used to love comics, but somehow, I never caught on with science fiction.” I searched my mind. “Ray Bradbury, you know, when I was a kid.” She nodded. I nodded in response and went on. “I liked that one about the time machine, you know, with the path and the squashed butterfly.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she smiled.

I smiled. “Yeah, that blew my seventh-grade mind,” I grinned. I sipped my bourbon, glad that I had connected on a subject rather alien to me. As the bourbon stung my tongue, I suddenly regretted the comment about seventh grade.

“Mysteries?”

“No.” I needed to take care here; we were each readers, which is a connection, but not the same type of readers, which might prove awkward.

“No, not really. I mean, some Dashiell Hammett, some Raymond Chandler . . . but no, not really.” I looked into my hand. I swirled the bourbon. The ice tinkled against glass. “No P. D. James.” I looked up into her eyes. “I’ve never read Anne Rice.” I raised the glass to my lips and paused. I lowered it and looked back. I confessed my shame. “I’ve . . . I’ve never read Stephen King.”

She smiled. She looked over her shoulder. “You have a lot of books, though . . . ” she noted.

“I’ve read Harry Potter!” I interrupted. “You know, the first two books. I read them to my son when he was younger. But then . . . you know . . .” I sipped my bourbon and swallowed hard. I shrugged and came out with it. “Well, then he began to read them on his own, and well . . . I was bored with Harry Potter, so . . .”

She laughed. I put down my glass.

“God, I’m sorry, but that stuff reads like it was a checklist dictated into a tape recorder. ‘And here we have the talking paintings—check! And here are the giant chess pieces—check!’”

“Don’t forget the brooms,” she laughed. “Check!”

“And the capes,” I added. “Whatever, it was worth a few billion for someone who needed the money.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And you know, they were actually good books.”

“Sorry,” I grimaced. I reached for my drink. “I’m not really a snob. I just don’t read enough fiction, so I miss a few genres now and then.” I took a sip. “I should read erotica, eventually.”

She folded her hands and smiled. “Yeah, think about that—once you stop living it, maybe. So anyway, this book I’m reading . . .”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Tell me about it.”

I listened, taking her in. Her long red hair hung behind her, its ends resting on the couch behind her hips. Smart glasses framed her caramel eyes. Her tight jeans and blousy shirt revealed a lean figure; she had been trained as a dancer, she mentioned.

Her lips were pale and lovely. Tess had told me how youthful she seemed—she was twenty-seven, but could’ve passed for someone a decade younger.

As she talked, she mentioned her husband in passing.

“Oh yeah, that,” she said, recalling something. “I should tell you about him. See, we’re separated, recently . . .”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I clucked.

“Yeah, well, me too, but it’s okay,” She nodded. “It wasn’t my idea, but, you know . . .”

“That’s hard,” I commiserated.

“Yeah.” She caught my eye. “You want to hear the worst part?”

“If you want to tell me.”

“He told me he wanted a divorce while I was still pregnant with the baby.”

“Ouch!” I grimaced. “Yeah, that’s pretty low.”

“Yeah, right? But see, it’s not like that. He’s not a bad person. He just . . .” She looked up, thinking of the right words. “He just knows that he wants to be in love with someone else.”

“Oh, wow. So . . . there’s someone else . . .”

“No.” She shook her head. “There’s no one else. He just wants there to be.”

“He wants . . .” I repeated, not getting it.

“See, he realizes that while he loves me, and our two girls, very much, he doesn’t think this is the relationship he is meant to have. So he wants to be free to look for that relationship.”

“Oh, I guess that kind of makes sense.”

“Right? I mean, I said, ‘Why don’t we have an open relationship, then? You can date other women, and if you met someone, then . . . well, that’s what happened.’ But he’s not like that. He can’t date someone else while he’s with me. So, he has to be free to look.”

“Well, it sounds tough.” I said. “But kind of honorable, in a way.”

“Yeah, he’s very upright like that. And he’s so great with our girls.”

“You have two girls, you said?”

“Yes, four and eighteen months.”

“He’s with them tonight, while you’re here, right? Does he know that you’re seeing me, and . . .”

“Oh yes, he knows. He likes your blog, actually.”

I picked up my glass. “He reads my blog and he knows you’re here. Well . . . cheers.” I took a sip.

“I know, it’s unusual, but . . . well, it’s life.” She paused. “And man, the sex is so much better.”

I nodded and smiled. “Well, yeah, I hear that. I can’t say I miss being tied to my wife’s libido.”

“Right. Well, I meant that, yes, I like having new lovers. But I meant with him.”

“Oh, you still have sex?”

“Well, we live together,” she shrugged. “Different rooms, but . . . yeah. Only now, it’s different. We’re getting into kinkier stuff, dom/sub, and it’s really hot.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, flashing her eyes. “Really hot.”

I grinned. I reached to touch her hair. She leaned slightly to my touch.

Talking about her husband and children led her to speak about renovations they were doing to the house in light of the recent change in their relationship. She focused on the kitchen, speaking in some detail about additions. She was talking at length as I listened, allowing the familiarity of her own voice to still her nerves. She was, after all, meeting a new person for sex.

“ . . . and a new coffee pot,” she went on. “Weirdest thing, lately, I’ve developed a lactose intolerance, which is sad, really, because I always like milk in my coffee, and the substitutes are just . . . not good. Bleh.”

She paused and looked at me.

“I like half and half,” I offered.

“I am so sorry,” she said. “I’m just going on and on.”

“It’s fine, really. You’re nervous. May I make a suggestion?”

“Please,” she said, her body slumping.

I stood and held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go have some really hot sex.”

“That’s a good suggestion,” she laughed. “Whew. Yes. Let’s do that.”

She looked around my bedroom. “So, this is where it all goes down?”

I stood next to her. “Yes.” I took her face in my hands. “It goes down here.” I touched my lips to hers. Her mouth parted for mine.

I rested a hand on the small of her back, under her hair, pressing lightly to feel her muscle tone. I pulled back and smiled. I took her glasses and placed them on a nightstand. “Clothes off, Gina,” I said softly.

Gina’s eyes dropped. She raised the shirt over her breasts and shoulders. I touched her belly.

She handed me the shirt. I tossed it aside.

She reached behind her back. Her bra fell forward. I took it, throwing it to land near her shirt.

I caressed her left breast, admiring its pale areola and its nipples like pencil erasers.

“Pretty,” I said, leaning to kiss her neck. My mouth grazed her clavicle, her chest, a nipple. My lips returned to hers, barely touching. Her eyes closed in expectation.

I fell back abruptly, landing on the bed. She laughed.

“The pants, the pants!” I motioned impatiently. “Let’s see all of you—now, now!”

“Okay, okay,” she said. She stood on her toes and turned in place, giggling slightly. She stood still to unfasten her jeans. “You can undress too, you know.”

“Pshhh,” I said, waving a hand dismissively.

She was wearing pink panties, probably “date panties.” I stood to remove them.

“Now,” I said, kneeling before her. “Now, I can touch you.” I traced fingers up the back of her dancer’s legs, lightly nuzzling her bare pudendum with my nose. I inhaled deeply, carrying her fragrance with me as my face traveled over her navel to her hips, up to her breasts and finally, to rest with her face.

We kissed.

I took her hand and lay her back on the bed. She watched as I slowly undressed by the lamp’s light.

She suddenly looked around. “Wait, what time is it? I need to call my kids to tuck them in at eight.”

“We have about an hour before bedtime,” I said, crawling over her. “You let me mind the hour.” I kissed her eyelids. “You just relax.”

My lips moved around her face and back down her body. I paid attention, savoring these first moments together.

My lips moved around her breast. She sighed as her nipple grew hard in my mouth. I caressed her breast in slow, deep circles, sucking with steady rhythm.

I was rewarded as her milk streamed into me.

I moaned in appreciation. She ran her fingers though my hair, quietly, as her back arched.

I licked her inside my mouth, tasting her warm sweetness. My hands massaged as she let down into me. I’m here, I thought. Give yourself to me.

I drank her slowly, licking and nibbling, making my suckling erotic and arousing. My fingers confirmed the wetness between her legs. I found her clit and massaged as I sucked.

She sighed deeply. I licked again. Just cum, I thought. Cum as I drink you.

I moved to nurse from her other breast. A finger entered her. Another followed.

I drank more intently, more selfishly, slurping and gulping noisily.

I swallowed a draught and edged up her neck. I kissed her deeply.

“So sweet,” I smiled. Her gentle face was beatific in lamplight, her long red hair splayed across the pillows. I leaned into her neck. “I’m going to fuck you now,” I whispered.

She nodded.

After so much talk, she was now so quiet.

I entered her easily, holding her close under me. I fucked her fully, getting to know her responses as filled her, rocked back, and filled her again.

We fucked quietly, intently.

“Nicole was right,” she whispered, breaking the silence.

“Nicole?” I asked. “You mean Tess?”

“Well, yeah, Tess was right, too.” She put her hands on my shoulders. “I meant Nicole, the teenager . . .”

“Oh, Nicole,” I kissed her neck.

Gina pulled me close. “She was right to see you.”

I put my lips to her ear. “I’ll be sure to tell her you think so,” I whispered. “When next I kiss her.” I brought my mouth to hers.

I sat back, keeping my cock inside her as I pulled her legs up to rest on my chest and shoulders. I lowered myself again, bringing her legs down as my face moved to hers.

I kissed her as her calves framed her face.

“Impressive,” I said.

“Dancer,” she smiled.

“Yeah, well, my dancer,” I smiled in response. “The fact that you can do this allows me to do this.” I pivoted back on my hips and thrust upwards.

“Unh,” she gasped. “God.”

I fucked into her forcefully, pressing up just inside her body.

Her face glowed. Her eyes were inward, leaving me.

I kept a deep, steady rhythm. I noticed the time. Ten minutes.

I fucked her closer.

Five minutes.

I fell close to kiss her. “Gina?”

“Hmmm?”

“Call your babies, mama.”

She snapped alert. “Is it eight?”

I nodded to the clock. “Yeah. Make your call. We have things to do.”

I pulled out and kissed her forehead. She reached for her phone. I went to the bathroom to wash up as she made her call.

She shut her phone as I returned to the room. I set a glass of water on the nightstand. “Babies all tucked?” I sipped from a second water glass.

“No,” she put down the phone, exacerbated. “There’s no answer. Maybe he has them out or something.”

“Do you need to keep calling, or . . .”

“No, it’s fine. I just hate to miss talking to them at bedtime.”

“I know the feeling,” I said. “So, if you’re done with the call, it’s time for me to fuck you up the ass.”

“You’re so direct!” she laughed.

I opened a cabinet and took down a bottle of lube. “I find it works best to be direct.” I opened the bottle and poured lube into my palm. I closed my hand to warm the liquid before applying it to her hole.

“I guess that’s best if you want to get your way.”

“It’s best for me to give you what you want,” I replied, massaging her hole. “Besides, I’m increasingly convinced that anal sex should be a part of any first date. Just sorta gets it out of the way, you know?”

I slid a finger into her.

“Unh.” She closed her eyes. “Hmm, well, it’s going to be a tight fit. It’s been a long time.”

“I don’t mind a tight fit.” I reached for a condom. “Anyway, stick with me, and it won’t be a long time anymore.”

“Hmm, nice. So, do you want me on my knees or on my back, like this?”

“On your back. You’re pretty so I want to look at you.” I raised her thighs, bringing her ass up. “Now, if you were homely, I’d have to flip you over.”

She laughed ass I entered her cunt.

“Hmmmm,” she nodded. “That’s not my ass, you know.”

“I know. It’s just so hard to tear myself away from your pussy.”

“I don’t mind at all . . .” She fell back into the silence that envelops her as she’s fucked.

Wordlessly, I took my cock from her and gave it back to another hole.

Her head turned as she moaned lightly.

“Shhh,” I said, caressing the legs on my shoulders. “I’ve got you,” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”

She reached to touch my forearm.

I let my cock rest I her body, moving slowly to take in the contrast of between the lushness of her pussy and the tight grip of her sphincter.

As she faded again, I fucked into her harder.

I pounded and pounded, wiping the sweat that dripped from my brow.

I reached down to take a breast in hand. I squeezed firmly. A long arc of milk shot up.

“Hot damn,” I admired as the fountain splashed on her flesh.

She opened her eyes and grinned. “Not every girl you fuck can do that trick.”

“No, they can’t,” I said, taking both breasts in hand. “You are a girl with many unusual attributes.” I turned the stream to face me, never giving up my pace on her ass. I opened my mouth as milk splashed on my face and waiting tongue.

She laughed out loud.

“Oh, fuck you’re hot,” I exclaimed. I pulled out and licked her from my lips. “Bend the hell over, mama. I’m spanking your ass.”

She kept laughing as she turned over.

The next day, I wrote to thank Tess for inviting me to Gina. “Thanks for sharing your bitch, girlfriend,” I wrote. “She’s a solid-gold keeper.”

I also said as much to Gina, letting her know that I very much looked forward to second date.

“Me too!” she replied. “That was incredible. Thanks." She told her bottom still smarted, which she enjoyed.

“I told my husband how hot it was," she went on. "He wants to know if he can watch next time.”