That evening, I was online in a chat room. I was in aroom called “Women who masturbate” or something likethat. I was chatting with this gu... who was asking meabout my love life. I was telling him about the hugestrap-on dildo that my roommate had given me. He kepttrying to get me to stick it in while we werechatting. I’ll admit, he did get me quite hot while chatting. Ilove sexy talk, and I was having trouble typing withone hand, and playing with my pussy with the other. Itold. They’re the one, unchanging, unsettling constant.“Not that I’m not flattered, but you’d better not be undressing me beneath those shades, Mr. Panda,” Nadia says, eyes twinkling.“Light sensitivity,” I lie.Her smile turns into an apologetic frown. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t…”“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “I’ll take a craft beer. Whatever the special is.”“Is that all?” she asks.I nod, but she doesn’t move to leave. She’s rooted to her spot an arm’s length away, chewing a pouty lower lip while looking. More

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