Last weekend, my boyfriend, Cliff, and I went to a concert in the park. It was in the early evening, just as the sky was turning a royal blue. Thousands of people spread out over the park area in front of the band shell, where the orchestra was tuning up, many having arrived much earlier in the afternoon.

Picnics were scattered here and there. Cliff picked out a place off to the side under an oak, and we spread a blanket and opened our wine and munchies. As night descended, the orchestra played, and the air grew chillier. We wrapped a second blanket around us, lay back and continued listening to the concert.

At first I barely noticed it: Cliff’s hand on my thigh. Gently he caressed me, stroking my leg. It felt warm and pleasurable. Gradually my boyfriend’s hand slipped between my legs. He cupped my... Read More