“Shut up, James” Karen said quickly. “Don’t ruin this for me…” Then, she smiled at him. “I’ll be gentle with you, honey. Trust me, ok?...You are going to like this!” she encouraged him, “Lots of men love the feeling of having their asshole stretched and their prostate massaged, OK? Do it for me, baby!”“But...,” he stammered.“James…” she cautioned. She stared at him sternly until he was compelled to look away. “I said, ‘Do it!’”Knowing he had no choice, James slowly turned around and presented his. You want a man—European man or Indian man? You English or American?”“American,” I said. “Just the hotel, thank you.” He’d cut right to the chase. From the hotel reference, or was he able to assess me from the look of me and the look I’d given him when I picked him out from the rest of those leaning on the taxi? Was he gay too? Was it a man I wanted? No, certainly not a man, having come this far and been primed by Chet. I could get a man in New York—I had gotten men in New York before Chet. More

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