Poppy’s eyes always shine bright when she talks about doing it with me and my buddy Paul. Whenever he comes in to visit, she gets visibly excited. I take no offense. After all, I was the one who initiated the whole thing way back when.

I like to watch her flutter around our home, getting the guest room ready, buying his favorite beer and trimming her pussy in that exact adorable landing strip he once admired.

When I got home from the airport with my best friend, it was a grand reunion. She leapt into my pal’s arms and then into mine as if to say, “We’re all here together again.”

I thought she was going to make dinner, but she surprised me — surprised us both, actually — by shrugging off her jeans and her sweater and immediately getting on her knees.