That’s it. I was sick and tired of hearing my hunky pal Pete complain about how hard it was to please his new girlfriend Jordana—and how he was also looking for a little more from her. "She’s bi isn’t she?" "Well so am I, but how did you know?" "I hate to break it to you Pete, but your equipment can’t compete with mine." "What the hell does that mean?" We were huddled together on a Central Park bench with trees shimmering red and gold in the November sun. I reached into my Vuitton duffel and... read more
