I sat at your kitchen table as you turned up the heating and put on the kettle for some coffee. We'd both been out at Christmas parties and the tequil... (mine) and the wine (yours) was making us both a little sleepy. It was less awkward this time, partly because of the alcohol we'd both consumed and partly because of the darkness, I've always felt more at home in the night.You liked my shoes, you said as I leant over and slipped them off slowly, your eyes following my movement as my dress gaped. I had made up mind. As he started the car I looked at him and smiled and said to myself Kent Falconer tonight you were mine. ‘Where do you live,’ he asked. ‘Manhattan Park,’ I said. The 30 minutes drive was fruitless. I felt that Kent would stop the car and fuck me. Nothing happened. He was a total gentleman. He spoke about his past relationships, his new movie and his two daughters who were of mine age. I felt bad, somewhat vulgar, was Kent trying to convey me the message that I am just like. More

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