We could have flown up tomorrow morning, made the meeting and flown home the following day. Things didn't come together in her mind and perhaps it was the wine but she decided it didn't really make any difference ... she had enjoyed flying First Class, the elegance of the Marriott and now a $700 dinner ... it just didn't seem to get better than that! She started to push back her chair and the back caught on the rug, tilted a little and Michael was on his feet and caught the chair before she. The conversation that night ranged from geeky to the long story of how a colleague, Paul, had spent a previous evening going from woman to woman to try to hook up, eventually sleeping with the only person left: a male student with dreadlocks and a ripe odour. Emma and I had been friends for a while and neither of us was into vanilla flirtation when it was possible to talk about oral sex or the fashion for pubic shaving. She had a boyfriend, a DJ and the kind of nice, personable guy you might. In fact it had been years. She was too old to be treated this way and she would tell him so. As the time stretched into what felt like eternity her mind drifted back into the past and she remembered... She was only ten when she first came to stay with Uncle Mike. She'd had a life full of pastries, ponies, smiles, and happiness. Then came the news that her parents had been killed in a shipwreck. She waited for them to come home and they didnt. She went through the funeral as if asleep, none of. It was liberating to walk around naked in the house. Our kitchen has a big window so I hoped a neighbour wasn't outside or if he was, he would not tell my parents what he saw. I walked to the dining table and sat on one of its corners, my hands were on the tabletop, holding my weight while I was pushing my clit to the wood, moving my hips, pretending to ride a big cock. I moaned, it was so intense; when I first discovered table corners to myself, that was a game-changer. I imagined some guy.
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