The club is decorated with mannequins showing off their fashion line, a dance floor with a stripper pole, flashy lights, fog, dance pop, porn on big screens, a wine bar and people fucking everywhere. He takes me back to the “voyeur/exhibitionist room” where one can look in a window and watch couples fuck as though they are goldfish. He says to me, “Take your clothes off, we go upstairs.”

Six months into dating my first San Francisco boyfriend, I found myself taking it up the ass regularly. I also learned how to use a strap-on with him, AND how to use it well. Like most sex lives, ours needed to be *spiced* up to keep things interesting so I devised a little plan for him...