Dear Mrs. Fantasy,

I can’t stop thinking about your orgy fantasy. As I walk down the street, every woman is you, and I let my eyes run over their breasts, their hips, their legs…. I pretend you’re naked before me, and then I slip into your orgy fantasy: your eyes are fixed with lust on your husband’s cock, and on the heaving breasts all around us, and I am behind you with some other man, having shed my clothes. My body is pressing up against yours, and you feel my cock tracing a line across the small of your back, then across your firm ass as it arches up towards me, and then my dick slips down between your legs, and although you do not know who it is behind you – you reach back to place a hand on my chest but do not turn to investigate further – we’re both too far gone to do anything but fuck, and fuck, and let our bodies be drawn down towards the floor as others watch with lust and envy. Continue reading The Business Card Experiment →