A Bird in Hand... Part Two

December 5, 2011 by

 A Bird in the Hand, Part Two So Lana, Hottie and I chat about their evening, where they went and what happened, all while Lana is perched on my knee. She’s wearing an open-backed top, and my free hand gently caresses her bare skin. Hottie sits across the table, smiling, seemingly pleased with the arrangement: we were trying to get an orgy together, after all.

We have a few drinks and chat with house music thumping in the background. I’m really into the moment, and I reach up and take a handful of Lana’s hair. I turn her face to mine. She doesn’t resist, and I even feel her hand slide into the folds of my robe. We kiss. It lasts a few minutes. I keep waiting to hear Hottie move over to join us. She doesn’t.

When I open my eyes, I catch a glimpse of a very agitated Hottie. She gets up to go to the washroom, and Lana and I go back to what we were doing. After a few more minutes, I realize that Hottie is taking too long.

After a quick search, we learn that Hottie has left. We are now standing at the entrance to my apartment. Lana is let down and feels guilty about what we did. I tell her it’s alright. Lana says she thinks she should get going, too.

I am in a wild state: kinda drunk, jacked up with enthusiasm, which is now turning into sour regret and deeply, throbbingly aroused. And there’s a gorgeous, scantily-clad woman about to leave my home, to slip off into the night. Moments such as this define us as individuals. I make my move.

“I understand that you feel bad, but it’s not your fault and it’s not mine, either. If she didn’t take off, we’d all be having fun right now. You can still stay. Besides, you’re gonna feel guilty regardless. Might as well enjoy yourself.”

We stand on the entrance mat at my doorway in silence. Lana stares up at me. I lift her up to my eye level, and kiss her passionately. Lana wraps her legs around my waist and I carry her over to my couch. So begins the longest single sex session of my life. We did it on every flat surface and stick of furniture in my apartment. And just when I think the night is over, sky getting light as I see her out, we do an encore right on the entrance mat.

We say goodbye, Lana leaves, and I never see her again. Hottie and I talked it out later, and she told me that Lana quit the bar soon after our "date." Hottie hung around for a few more weeks before dropping a bombshell: she was thinking about getting into porn. I got the hell out of there.

In the end it looks like having sex with Lana was the right move.

In my experience, having sex is almost always the right move.

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