“You know you’re not orgasmic when you’re there?” Sam said, verbalizing his observations. They’d walked through door of the club at least a dozen times in the last three weeks. Tonight they took a break from the debauchery. They sipped vodka tonics as they sat on the porch gazing out at the lake, the serene water and the clouds that gathered on the horizon. The quiet calm of the evening, after spending so many nights immersed in the s*x-hungry environment of the club, provided a rare moment of clarity.
“I know,” she admitted.
“You haven’t climaxed once,” he added.
“I guess it just doesn’t work that way. I don’t feel the arousal when I’m in the middle of playing around. But it comes back to me when I think about it later.”
“Why not feel it then?” he asked.
“I’d like to,” she replied. S
