The air was warm, far warmer than he would expect on a January night. The room was black, with only the dim glow from an outside light coming in the w...ndow. He could see the curtains swaying in the slight breeze, the air felt heavy like the humid air of a summer night. His mind was reeling; where was he? The last thing he remembered was that he had been in bed at his apartment, the crappy, dingy apartment that was all he could afford after his wife had tossed him out. He remembered waking up. I started crying more as against my will I turned my back to him, bent at the waist, and pulled my thong off slowly to reveal my waxed pussy to him. He stood over me for a minute. The suspense killing me. I soon found myself on my hands and knees watching as he neatly moved everything on my coffee table to one side. I watched helpless as he grabbed his duffel bag from behind the couch and set it beside the coffee table. Against my will I found myself climbing up onto the coffee table, still. From the way it rode up as she sat opposite me a large part of her upper thighs were on display also which she did little to try and cover. I could feel the stirrings in my groin which I tried to suppress.“No,” I said wearily, “I was hoping she would still be awake for me.”“She was up to about an hour ago but the wine overtook her and she went off to bed.” She paused. “But she did ask if she could borrow my toy so I told her to help herself.”She looked at me warily expecting me to go mad I. I melted.(My name is Stanley Kubrick, no relation to the famous director. At the time of this meeting, I was twenty-two, slim-bodied, and a gay virgin. Now back to the story.)"I'm just pointing out that you're using the wrong honey for the bees you wanna catch."I blinked."Is this on?" Steve asked while motioning to my crotch."Very funny," I said and laughed along; then I thought of my own volley, "So, I should dress like you?" Hey!" Steve shouted.We both laughed and Steve bought another round..
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