It strikes me suddenly. He’s doing this for me. Because he knows I like it. He’s just paid through the nose for me, yet he’s choreographing our entire evening around my desires. None of this is his thing. But he’s got it the wrong way around. The whole point of our little arrangement is that it’s for his benefit, not mine. Sure, I’m very up for all the multiple orgasms at the hands of a gorgeous, repressed, wounded guy, but I’m the one who proposed he use my body to sate his needs. Slay his demons.
