Chapter 2

... you drink another shot. You feel that if anyone reminds you, you’re the one driving, you’ll smash the glass over his stupid head!

“My wife is a whore -- what do traffic rules matter to me?!” you think desperately, while your erection strains against your jeans. What if you went over there right now ... and joined in? How would Annette react? Who said you were doomed to play only the observer?

But no ... if you too, like Annette, lose every boundary, who will keep your marriage from catastrophe? Maybe the two of you should see a marriage counselor. You know Annette, your special Annette -- she could not simply turn herself inside out all at once. You are a man of inertia. You wait a long time before making any serious decision. You wait even when your wife is giving herself to near-strangers at the market!!!

Anzur, who apparently likes refinements in bed, didn’t bother turning Anna to face him. Instead, he simply hiked her leg straight up. Any other girl would have fallen, but your yogini has first-rate flexibility and first-rate physical conditioning. She did not perfect herself for purposes like these, but ... her straight raised leg, still in its high heel, now towers above her lover’s shoulder. He ought to be thanking Allah for such first-class sexual service. Annette’s befouled leg, like a reminder, like a flag, is flung high! And Anzur drives into her harder and harder, apparently no longer able to stop.

“I think maybe I do understand you after all,” says Rosie, bringing you a third shot. You are not sure you are ready to drink it; the proof is far too high for you. “To get to fuck a beautiful piece like that every night, maybe you can overlook the fact that she’s a whore.”

“I never fuck her like that,” you answer, emboldened into honesty by the liquor. “We have gentle sex.”

“Then why are you so delicate with her?” Rosie asks in surprise. “She’s a little slut -- you can see right away she likes it rough!”