My particular kink only worked if I cared for the woman.

And I liked Becky, a lot. She was smart, perceptive — and oh yeah, the most smoking-hot chick I’d ever met, without a doubt. We’d been physically and emotionally involved for about two months when I had decided to tell her what I really wanted from her — what I needed from her.

I had made her dinner at my place. As we sat over a dessert of tiramisu, I laid it all out. It took guts. Telling a woman about my innermost need is always risky. I’d had situations blow up on me before.

Becky listened, the expression on her pretty face intent. I finished, and the tension became unbearable as I waited for her response.

“So,” she said at last, “is it that you want to watch me fuck another... Read More