Fumbling both more closed, I recalled how in my confusion David has shared the initial greeting with his two (softball) pals and now asked me to show them my naked pictures, which I did. Suddenly I telling them about my husband loving to show me off, his fantasy of me fucking other men (I knew instantly that was a mistake), and with tongue in high gear, brain in neutral, I told them how I missed being out, and appreciated (I noticed my blouse and skirt was open again) and all about this arrangement that “left me here with 3 men I don’t know fingering my pussy and showing my tits to the world and I need to leave!” This elicited some laughter that relaxed me again. I made the decision to go home before I got gang fucked, although someplace this tiny voice from someplace was urging “go for it!” When I announced I was going home before I really did something wrong, Aaron, who was incredible black guy, said, “Wait a minute, it seems your husband set you up on a date and dressed you very. It’s just wow. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Then, I opened the cupboard with the glasses. I grabbed one. “Hey.” “Huh?!” Shocked that someone was awake, I accidently dropped the glass. It broke into pieces. “Shit!” “It’s okay,” he said laughing. I looked at him. It was Nick. He wasn’t wearing anything but his boxers. He had the best six pack I saw in my whole life. “Oh my God, Nick, I’m so sorry,” I said, falling to my knees and trying to clean up the mess I did. He stood in front of me. “Anna, seriously, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” “What if Lisa woke up?” “Don’t worry,” he said, “she sleeps with ear plugs.” “Ouch,” I said. “Did you cut yourself?” “Yeah.” He gave me his hand. “Let me help.” I took his hand and stood up. “I think there’s a band-aid somewhere here,” he said as he opened some cupboards. “Here they are.” He took my finger that was bleeding and while locking eyes with me, he licked the blood off of it. I gasped. He smiled and put the band-aid.
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