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“I would prefer to know the first person I…”“Bed?” she offered, pushing the wine into his hand.He took a sip to steady his mounting nerves, ...��Ah, quite. Anyway, I would prefer to know them, the real them.”“That is the opposite of what we typically do, my Prince, people come here to live out fantasies, we are whoever they want us to be, partners, lovers, girlfriends… No one wants who we really are.”He eyed her questioningly.“I could be a princess for you, a woman from foreign lands come to seek. ”“Well, that makes it fucking unanimous,” I sighed. “I guess I’m so afraid of getting hurt again that I’ve done what Karin accused me of doing - closing and locking my heart to prevent anyone from getting in.”“Is THAT why you’re keeping me at arm’s length, Steve Adams? Because you’re afraid you’ll get hurt?”“I guess that’s true,” I said quietly. “Certainly the people who know me best think so.”“But what do you think? What the rest of us think doesn’t matter a whole lot.”“I don’t know what to. She gave her clit a little rub. It seemed like forever but John came back:”Taxi’s here!” In the taxi, Clare was sat opposite me. She kept moving her legs to reveal her knickers and kept bending over to show me her tits. I had to sit crossed legged to hide my excitement. We finally got to their house and we sat in the conservatory that had been converted into a bar. John rustled up some whiskey and cokes and we chatted for a few hours. Every time John went away for a few minutes, Clare would. Sara cut my hair as we drank then after she was done we sat around drinking and cutting up. The conversation soon turned to sex and we both talked about how sex with our spouses is not what it used to be. As we talked Sara thumbed thru a pile of mail sitting on the table. She pulled a Playboy out and flipped thru it. She asked me why men looked at this stuff. She wanted to know why her husband would look at those women when she was right there. She stood up and spun around with her arms up.
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