Memory or fantasy?

Véronique was kind enough to leave out some details. I’m not that kind.

Véronique picks up where she left off — the cold air, the car, the Liberty Hotel with its green neon and painted ceiling.

Véronique tells you about our first date, in her own words.

A much-hyped first date, a black polka-dot minidress, and a request made over drinks.

A series of questions, each one a little more insistent than the last.

An evening of oral education, with structured feedback.

Pack a bag, but we’re not going anywhere. I just want to watch you model every last thing in it — and render every pair of panties unwearable.

Same concept, slight twist: each woman touches herself next to someone else’s partner, who finishes on her.

A modest proposal for a coed circle jerk — done with a little taste, and subtlety.

A choreographed evening for four couples, eight strangers, and one bathroom.