Margot

Gangbangs don’t turn me on. But I’ve been conjuring one for Margot, and I want a very particular seat at it.

Mostly I feel dead, and both my knees need replacing — then Margot, Jade, and an email from P out of the blue.

I can’t have this fantasy – Margot isn’t available unless I pay. So here are three versions of it anyway.

I reflect on a conversation with Margot about her unrealized fantasy of double penetration and a gangbang, realizing what excites me isn’t the act itself but the trust she’d place in me to keep her safe while curating such an evening — and the gratitude that might follow.

When Margot bites her lip for me, I can’t tell what’s real – and I’ve been asking that question since I was a kid.