I wondered what that was all about. Yet another e-mail, this one from Josh. He was the only openly-gay member of our clique. ‘Camping trip next week... You available?’ His version of camping was a secluded spot, a tent, one sleeping bag and two naked guys fooling around all day. About once a month I went "camping" with him and gave him a hand job. No big deal. Nearly all the guys in our group did the same. Josh was a good guy, and it was just helping out a friend. I sent back a non-committal. "Okay."On my way to the kitchen I turned the thermostat down. Nikki was right: it was close to eighty-five, way too hot for fucking.As I prepared the drinks, I watched the girls over the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. They were gawking at the TV while the man gave his daughter's pussy a serious tongue-lashing."When did you get this movie, Sam?" Nikki asked. "I've never seen it before." I don't think I've played it for you. Hot, isn't it?" I poured the green froth from. None of them had been as good as Brandon had been, but they just needed a little help in the fuck department. Wait, what was she doing? Stop thinking about him she told herself firmly. She needed to get him out of her head, and maybe a club was what she needed. Plenty of guys and plenty of options to help her forget about last night. Going back home she looked in the back of her closet for the little black dress that was a size to short. It did wonders for her when she had still been with Paul. “Now you know why I don’t want any kind of relationship. Now you know the truth about me. I’m damaged goods.” She stands, looking away from Matt, and clears her dishes from the table. As she takes them to the sink he says, “I am so sorry Emily.” She spins around so quickly that her fork flies off of the plate she holds, clattering across the kitchen floor. “Don’t call me that!” She practically yells. Matt’s speechless as she glares at him, fresh tears glimmering in her eyes. “You said that you.