"Please eat me, Harmon! Eat me out, 'cause I really need it! I'm asking nicely, aren't I? I get all submissive when I'm horny, to the point of surrend...ring to the guy's demands, whatever they are, just to get laid!" Surrender? Submission? Wow, those words from you really appeal to the disciplinarian in me! I will eat you, but you have to show that you are serious about giving in to my demands!" Anything, sir!" Don't call me 'sir'- I work for a living! That's rule one! Secondly, I want you to. Interesting.My conversation with Fi at her house had developed, for a while, exploring some of her needs and - at least on my part - my limits. Which went about as far as it could, given that we were due back at work in an hour or so, which is hardly an ideal opportunity to begin exploring the wilder aspects of human sexuality. So we chatted, really quite matter of factly, about some of her enduring fantasies - which were, I felt, helpfully detailed - and I tried to get my head around the. “Oh, God.” She grabs her bag and, clutching her coat closed with her damp, sore hand, she stands and rushes for the door. She tries not to look at the ragged old man in the Yankees hat and jacket, tries not to think that he’s the one who’s snickering with those leering eyes of his.Once on the platform, she stops and exhales a prolonged, draining breath. Only as the subway’s doors close and the train pulls away into the tunnel does she realize that she got off one stop early.“Shit.”What a. They both smiled, one out of love, one out of duty. Pete wandered off to refill his glass and found himself beside John; John the mellow, John the laid back, easy going kind of guy. Pete and John got on because they were so different. Pete was, and liked to think he was and was seen to be, a man of action; why delay and think about something when you can wade in with both feet. Sometimes it was the right move, often it got him into trouble. John liked him for his impetuosity, at the same time.