I could never risk all that for some sordid bi-sexual affair. Besides, my sex life with Jen is wonderful, and keeps me more than satisfied. Which brin...gs me back to the shower. I had proposed to my wife earlier that night in the garage that because I had once again made a semi-large purchase without talking it over with her first, I was in need of some… discipline. This time, I suggested, I had gone too far and may need some extra stimulation to learn my lesson. When she asked what measures. “She must like you. She never has men over to her house. And I mean never too,” Francesca said. I nodded my head. “She says that you are a photographer. Is that true?” I said yes and nodded my head as well. “I can see how she may like you. You are nice looking man. She does not date men only because most men, in her opinion, are how do Americans put it?” I waited for her answer. “They are and pardon my expression but they are assholes.” We both laughed. All of a sudden Greta, slowly, came down. Peter looked at him. ‘I couldn’t leave him to the mercies of the Sao Paulo cops.’ ‘He is your friend?’ Peter looked at me. I could see his eyes clearly. There was a warmth and tenderness to them that I had rarely seen in many men. There was kindness there and pain as well. ‘Nope, not my friend. Just an asshole I had to work with. But that is gonna change, I can tell you.’ Peter told me. I looked at this strange man before me. At that moment I knew what the strange feeling I had experienced. Listening to the sounds of my skin slapping against yours. Listening to my own breathing. You were lifting you ass up against me on my down strokes to drive me deeper and deeper inside you. I could feel my orgasm rising and bent close to your ear and whispered, “Baby, I love you. You are so sexy that I just don’t ever want to stop making love to you.” You responded, although your voice was weak, “I love you too, baby.” “Do you want me to cum inside you?” I asked. “Do you want me to fill you up.