It's a frenzy. We're like Cirque du Soleil performers but naked, without music, and no discernible talent. We tumble around on the bed like acrobats, throwing off each other's clothes.
Finally, I'm wearing only my glasses, and Jarrod's wearing only a twenty-thousand dollar watch and a twenty-thousand watt smile. He's lying on the bed, diagonally, and I am straddling him, my legs around his hard belly and his erection teasing my backside.
My goal reached, a sudden tranquility washes over me. I'm content to take a moment and study this beautiful man. There isn't an ounce of fat anywhere on him. Every muscle is defined. He's probably never eaten a Cheeto in his life.
His limbs are long and strong. His chest is hairy with a line that goes down through my legs toward his happy place. I imagi
