"You...you really like eating ass?" I ask."Writing what you know," he says.I roll my eyes."She's real, by the way," he says."Who?" as I take a closer ...ook at the story. "Ananya?" It's my big secret to you," he says. "It's easy to make a good story when you've lived out the real deal."I sit there, befuddled to say the least. Another glance out the window and the Seal is drying the same dish he started on 30 minutes ago. At least a little progress...I sigh and tell him that it's hard to believe.. After a few minutes she announced she was going inside to make a cold drink and offered me one which I accepted, I followed her into her kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar whilst she made a drink she sat opposite me and we resumed chatting.Whilst talking my eyes were taking in the sight before me, due to the cooler temp in the kitchen her nipples were erect and showing through her bikini top my gaze wandered down over her mid-drift and lovely smooth belly to her bikini bottoms that were. Around 30 of us gathered to experience what it is like, very slowly, to undress each other and then - in total darkness - move around a space experiencing the gentle brush of another human being, the delicate touch of a stranger, or the beautiful hug of someone equally in search of a connection in that moment. For an hour we explored the space, walking or settled on mats in the centre. All in total darkness. K had time alone thinking about the space and the sounds of gentle exploration around. She was a highly intelligent girl, of Irish extraction, and, I must admit, I loved hearing her talk. Irish accents have always been a turn-on for me. Petra stood five foot four inches tall. She had shoulder length red-orange hair, freckles, pert pointed breasts topped with the most delightful puffy nipples. She had a deceivingly innocent look, appearing much, much younger than her actual years and a hometown charm that I had not seen in a woman, in years. I was looking forward to this.