Dear Little Showoff,

After the brazen way you last showed off your naked body to that lucky neighbor of yours, is it any wonder that I’m seriously contemplating making an appointment with one of our local real estate agents to see if there might be another apartment free in the building? I make a charming dinner companion, I promise – always appreciative of my hostess. And I happen to be a great lover of artistic photography – I guess you could call me a collector. So really, what could be more perfect? We could knock on each others’ doors in search of understocked kitchen supplies…share wifi…have neighborly orgies. You know: everything you look for in an investment property. Yes, I think I’ll head down to that real estate office this afternoon.

But first! I’m seeing your naked photograph and raising it a naked you. You call? Well, I’m holding quite a hand, my pretty, and here it is. First  card: a king of hearts, who looks like your husband to me, although it could be any other man you deem kingly. You’ll be having sex with him, so look closely. Notice that his cock is out and that you’re lusting for it.

Second card: a queen of hearts, although it may just as well be a mirror. There you are. Notice that this is not just any queen. This one (you, my dear) is at least partially naked. How naked will depend on the cards you hold and choose to play.

Third and fourth cards: the jack and ten of hearts. I’m the jack of course (of all trades, specifically those performed in the bedroom), and the ten does what I tell it to do, which in this case means leading you and your husband out into public somewhere, under sun or moon, with a mutual lust that needs mutual quenching.

Last card. Have you guessed? The ace of hearts, my ace in the hole. Study it carefully. There you’ll see the scene’s final touch, so let me paint it for you: there’s the king you choose, there’s you, there you are both out somewhere in “public”, which I hasten to remind you means a place where other people might possibly chance upon you, and then…finally…there’s the two of you having sex in public. Sex in public? you ask. Yes, my dear, S.E.X., although like a former American president I won’t get hung up on how you define that. What I will insist upon, my hearty queen, is that whether it’s reached via mouth, pussy, cock, hand, or any other part you dream up, it ends in orgasm. That will guarantee that whatever you’ve been doing, no matter how much clothing you’re wearing, it was most definitely sex. Yep. Somebody’s got to come.

Got it? Now may I suggest you choose the spot under the streetlamp out my living room window? No? Then find your own spot, daring one, and make it good, because you’ve lost this hand and you’ve got debts.

All In,

X

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