The only man allowed at a swinging bachelorette party feels as if he’s been given the keys to a private, magical kingdom filled with every kind of pussy imaginable.

When my old college roommate asked me to housesit for him while he was out of town last month, I jumped at the chance. He’s got a swanky place in an upscale neighborhood in sunny San Diego. Compare that to my cramped apartment in cold, rainy Washington state, and you can imagine how fast I packed my bags.

I arrived on a Friday afternoon, found the hidden key and let myself in. Blake had left me some last-minute instructions concerning his plants and the fish tank. I took care of those matters and then went for a walk around the neighborhood. As I was returning to the house, a shiny sports car pulled into the driveway next door. A svelte... Read More