No, wait, that’s...” God, the memories, digging them up was painful in an almost literal sense. Internally resolved, externally forgotten. But, he...could remember a face. “ ... someone I drank ... didn’t know when to stop.”“ ... that’s rough. Fits right into the super depressed but confident, business dude you were when I met you.”“And you?” He wasn’t sure why he asked. The macabre conversation was a weird aftertaste to seek after a great meal and great sex.Many Kindred didn’t talk much about. I lick my middle finger. Coating it, then gradually but insistantly using it to bookmark your wonderful ass. You feel it against you, wet and slippery, its tip rotating gently into you as i return to my sensuous feast. From somewhere in the room the smell of incense drifts by, sweet and spicy. The bass vibrations of seductive music roll through you like summer thunder. Resting the flat of my tongue on the bottom of your lovely pussy, i glide leisurely up your outer lip…flicking my tongue. But the hours were actually shorter than a banking intern’s. I spent my shifts seating patrons, fetching drinks and providing table service. Oh and getting hit on, and my ass touched, so many times you stopped noticing on a busy shift. One guy went for a full on grope as I served his table, actually cupped my mound! I was so shocked I dropped a drink in his lap. “Oh sir I am sooo sorry, please excuse me,” I sighed and red wine’s such a bitch to get out. Anyway it was late evening and I’d been. All with peoplewho looked like supermodels. All groggily getting to their feet. Allcompletely naked like me. I was in the room at the far end.I guessed that I was not the only guy - ex-guy, whatever.There were 10 people (I don't know whether to call them women or men). Idon't even know whether to call myself a woman or a man. I don't thinkthat I am either.These other people were looking around at their surroundings and lookingat the other people in the same predicament that they were.What now?.
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