“John, Paul,” Sandy heard someone calling her two would-be lovers. “Time for the press conference.”“Sorry, Sandy, but we have to go,” said...John.“Please come with us tonight,” continued Paul.“Where to?”“A club.”Sandy could see that John’s erection has subsided somewhat but the wet spot on his briefs came as a relief. He enjoyed it too.“You’re going to let me hang here?”“We’ll pick you up at nine.” Paul’s erection had grown. Touching his package as a gesture towards her, he mouthed a silent. " It's not my fault," she whispered."Say it like you mean it, again, and again, and again."She did, over and over, until it became a mantra as I repeated it with her, changing the "my" to "your."With every repetition I could feel her relaxing a little bit more, sounding a little bit more confident, stronger, angrier. I took her hands and slapped the water with them with every "not," with every "fault," over, and over, and over, harder and harder and harder as we chanted it, until we were. More

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