I don’t know if Sydney will call me. As I wrote previously, I sort of suspect she won’t. I am a rare taste. And none of our conversation might have led her to anticipate this blog — and the opportunity that I represent. An opportunity, I confess, I genuinely continue to believe is a spectacular one for just about anyone, but especially for one whose tastes are aligned with mine. Who enjoys being on her back, legs open, as much as she enjoys being on her knees. Eyes gazing upward.
I don’t know if this is Sydney that I’m describing. I have a hunch it is, though. And if it is, I promise I’ll answer the phone when it rings — and I’ll be exactly as gentle or rough as she might wish.