It was a small hallway with three mirrored doors on each side. Five of them were open. I walked up to the closed one and almost knocked before I reali...ed where I was. What if it wasn't Janice? It wouldn't do to get caught in the woman's changing room. I thought for a second and then decided to sneak a quick look. If it was Janice, I'd knock; if it wasn't, I could always slip out with no one the wiser. Feeling a bit silly, I tip-toed forward and put my eye to the crack along the doorframe.It was. I told him when I was usually there and that I'd take care of him anytime. He lit a cigarette, said "thanks, man . . . you're real good at that" and walked off, out of the park to his car.I hung out, tasting his come in my mouth, smelling my hands for the smell of his cock, enjoying the cold night and being alone out there in the wind. About ten minutes later, another guy walked in, obviously nervous. Wearing an expensive windbreaker, nice clean slacks. Jeez — this guy reeked of straight civil. I realized she was teaching me how to make love to a woman. We had talked about my sexual history, so she was aware that I was a “girl virgin”. She gently guided my hands, my head, showing me how to match the pace of them both, showing me how and where to touch. I listened to every word eagerly and soon she was moaning. “Fuck, baby. Oh God, that feels good. Don’t stop!” As her hips arched in the air, I increased the pace of both my tongue and my fingers, pushing them in deep and hard. I was. “You know, redhead, I was a perfectly safe, stable engineer when I met you.”“Uh-huh,” I said. Kissed him.“Now I’ve played music on two continents and in eight states and NOW there’s a CD with our music.”“Yeah,” I said breathily.“And still, NOBODY says ‘there goes Stoney Jackson, the engineer’. No, it’s ‘that guy that plays banjo with that redhead flute player.’” He kissed me.“So what part do you want to change?”Loooong kiss. “Not a single bit.”It’s even more magical now than the first time,.