Some one had carefully unstitched the cotton gusset, so even there I was on display. This was the last set of the day. Baz had filmed me stripping, ea...lier. He was efficient, knew instinctively what he wanted. I’d finger fucked myself for him, his camera low down catching every moment. I’d been on fire. I needed to be fucked. Wanted it. Even him, even he could fuck me. I was wet so wet. I had reached a peak of arousal, and needed t be satisfied. I zipped up the little black dress. It fitted. Here in Baton Rouge we, of course, were all in a tizzy over the possibility that the Saints might bring an NFL championship to the city that had been nearly destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. But Ellen was in from Chicago and wanted the Colts to win. A bet ensued. Ellen and I became close friends that night. Really the term ‘friend’ doesn’t quite do it for me. I’ve never shared a crisis so personal with another woman, and I feel closer to her than the word ‘friend’ really conveys. Patrick and our. More

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