The party was on the outskirts of town, in a huge house, the kind of place where the walls shook from the bass thumping out of the speakers, and nobody minded (except for those partygoers who weren’t drunk enough to put up with that modern electronic crap they call music). After a couple of hours of hanging out and telling stories, empty bottles were rolling under our feet. Cigarette smoke hung in the air. David, the thirty-one-year-old gentle, kind guy who always quoted books and brought everyone good wine but preferred whiskey himself, sat on the worn-out couch in the living room with a few others, while Lena, his new girlfriend, snuggled up next to him and stroked his arm. She was the first truly wild woman in his life. Twenty-six years old, with Romani blood running through her veins—dark olive skin, wild black curls that could never be tamed, gold hoops in her ears that reflected the lamplight, a visible nipple piercing, and that restless fire in her eyes that set her apart from all the safe, quiet girls and wives love had paired him with before. He adored her. Lena returned his feelings; she loved the way David treated her gently and with refinement, never once mentioning her background, because David wasn’t interested in such things. With him, she felt desirable, just like other women, but she wasn’t bound by chains like married women. But Lena was Lena...

Jake was drunk, his eyes glazed over, a loose smile on his face, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He was one of the friends David had been sending photos and videos of Lena to for months. Lena is riding him. Lena leans forward and pulls up her skirt. Lena strips naked. Lena takes a bath and rubs soap onto her breasts. Lena poses in her underwear. Lena kneels, semen glistening on her tongue. Jake has masturbated to them more times than he’d care to admit.

The conversation between the three of them on the couch had quietly taken an “interesting” turn.

Jake leaned forward, his voice slurring. “Dude ... those pictures you sent ... Jesus. I’ve been jerking off to them for weeks.” “Your girlfriend looks fucking crazy naked...” he said loud enough for Lena to hear.

David forced a smile onto his face and looked at his girlfriend, who was smiling as she sought Jake’s gaze. That familiar feeling in his stomach—pride mixed with something darker. “The pictures aren’t worth a damn, man. Masturbating to them ... that’s nothing compared to being in it. Trust me,” David said. Lena stroked David’s neck and gave him a kiss, but then, looking at Jake, she bit her lower lip.

Lena’s hand was on David’s thigh, her nails digging into his skin. She didn’t blush. She seemed amused, her eyes darting between them. A small, hungry smile played on her lips, but it was impossible to tell if she was looking at David or Jake.

Jake chuckled softly. “Really? Then let me try the real thing. Come on. I want to know what it really feels like.”

Five seconds of tense silence followed...

Lena was the first to stand up. She didn’t glance at David to ask for permission. She simply took Jake’s hand, their fingers intertwining effortlessly, as if nothing had happened. “Come on,” she said, her voice already hoarse but leaving no room for argument. “Let’s go see it, instead of just talking about it.”