We would spend hours talking about our lives, jobs, favourite TV shows and music, and eventually, sex. He was very open-minded, never judging me or shooting me a strange look when I revealed a new fantasy. On one drunken night we revealed our darkest desires to each other. It turned out we had similar interests, although mine were less explored. He eagerly volunteered to show me the ropes of his craft. Anthony was 6'3" and hefty, not fat. He had broad shoulders and strong legs, biceps that I could wrap both of my hands around and my fingers wouldn't touch each other. He made me feel like a nymph compared to a giant. The perfect big strong man to make me feel small and usable, exactly as I wanted. One day I rustled up the courage to begin my experimental journey. I subtly flashed him a peek at my breasts as I leaned forward and let my shirt fall, or rested my hand on his thigh, inching it dangerously close to his package. He tried to put on an air of confidence, but I sensed his. Where he thought he should have seen a dark patch of pubic hair, he saw nothing but the soft shading of her skin. The robe closed and Miranda ran to her bedroom calling back over her shoulder, "Oops - sorry about that, give me about ten minutes."Five minutes later Matt heard a scream and ran to the bedroom as Miranda call for him. The door slammed behind him. Turning he froze Miranda had removed the robe. In her left hand she held some kind of gadget that buzzed menacingly as a blue spark arced between two points. Miranda stepped forward and pushed Matt in the chest causing him to fall back on the bed."Miranda, what's going on here - are you OK?" No Matt - I'm not OK. I'm confused, angry, hurt, insulted... disrespected, deceived, de..." OK, OK, I get the idea, obviously you think that I've done something..." Shut up Matthew." Miranda picked up her wallet. "One hundred dollars ought to cover it." She stuffed the bills into Matt's pants pocket smiling as she noticed the tenting in his.
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