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cock. Fuck me hard.”
    I didn’t need to be asked again. I turned her around to fold her lithe body over the counter, unzipped and groaned as I inched aside those lacy panties to press my silicone dick into her wet cunt, watching it slide in just like that cucumber, watching Leila’s face contort in the mirror, so different from her controlled, onstage expressions.
    As I pressed into her, she pushed harder against me, taking my whole cock inside her in a hungry, sliding ride that rocked us both, till we were buckling against the counter. With one hand, I held the base of the dildo pressed against my own clit and levered the shaft against the front wall of her pussy, thinking of that fat cucumber, that keen crowd. I wrapped the other arm under her, teased at a nipple, and was rewarded with more thrusts back and forth from those dancer’s hips of hers.
    It was all my fantasies come true, this near-naked girl taking all she could get from me, but I knew we had just one chance to get it right because she would soon be gone, back to her exotic world of Paris cabaret.
    We were locked together for sweaty, staggering minutes, Leila’s gasps and moans building, my cock moving inside her, my swollen cunt fit to burst, my right hand moving on her clit. Then she screamed and buckled—and so did I.
    â€œOhhh, you’re good,” I murmured in her ear as I collapsed on top of her.
    â€œI told you I needed it,” she whispered in reply.
    A sudden flash of light bounced off the mirror like an echo from the heavens. For a moment I thought I was hallucinating. Then I saw that Marie was taking photos and Reno was positioned behind her, shaking her head in mock disapproval.
Crowded behind them, to my chagrin, were Tatiana and both her lovers, plus Freddy, Siggy…and the grungy guy from behind the bar. How long had they been there?
    â€œ Only mental snapshots ,” I barked at Marie, in an effort to maintain my dignity, but my voice sounded oddly staccato in the aftermath of orgasm, my cock still twitching idly inside Leila.
    The Frenchwoman arched a plucked eyebrow. “Taxi’s here,” she announced, as she turned on her heel, parting our little audience, cool as a cucumber.

ANONYMOUS
    BD Swain
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    Sometimes you just want to be fucked by someone you don’t know and will never see again.
    You shower after it’s already dark. You get dressed. You go out, jamming your fists into your jacket pockets. You walk fast, digging your heels into the sidewalk, and you keep your head down. You know where you’re going.
    There’s a club. You have to know where it is. You walk down that alley and then it’s the second door on the left, down in the basement.
    Cabs are pulling up and letting people out and letting other people stumble in. You can smell the river over here and it doesn’t smell good.
    Take out the pack of cigarettes and hit it on your palm but put it back in your pocket unopened. Just go in.
    Down the steps and straight to the bar; you order a scotch, neat, and drink it fast. You have that look on your face: furtive, eyes dashing around. She isn’t here. She would never be here. And that’s why you are here now.

    Who will it be? Find someone who looks like she can take you, and stare, head tilted down. Look up at her with your brow furrowed and that open, pleading look in your eyes. The first one will look away. It’s okay. Let her look away, find another one.
    The right one will stare back. The right one will know what this means. The right one will stare at you and then go to the bar and order a drink. And you’ll order another drink, but sip it this time. Squeeze the glass hard in your hand like you’re trying to break it and sip it slow. Let the booze sit on your tongue and burn a little before you swallow it down. Let her watch you.
    When you finish your drink, look for her again. Leave a tip on the bar and turn