A part of me hated that he could read my mind, but another, much larger part, loved it. Like how he knew when to put his hands around my neck and the exact amount of strength that he should squeeze. Or when I wanted him to throw me onto the bed and tell me in no uncertain terms exactly how I was going to pleasure him. And that I was going enjoy every minute of doing so.

He was right, and it was infuriating…

I wouldn’t consider myself to be a bisexual, despite the fact that I regularly fuck both men and women. The male form just doesn’t turn me on, but neither does the female body either.

No, the real turn on for me is the power play.

I love the game. I love it when they submit to me and grant me total control.

When someone submits, it’s as if heaven has opened up and God is speaking directly in my ear, saying “Jamal, this is a gift for your pleasure, use it wisely”.

And I do…

“Sex is like sports; it always helps to have a coach.”

I love Jeff, but my god does he give me some wack advice. I don’t know what happened to him growing up, but that boy was fooling around with the ladies long before the rest of us even knew what part of a woman was supposed to turn us on. Still, I should thank him more often. Or rather, the ladies whose company I have been lucky enough to have the pleasure of, should…

The first time I saw her, I knew I was hooked. It wasn’t her slim waist or her perky breasts, although they certainly didn’t detract. It was the small things that got me.

Like the way she would lean against the bench with her hips out just so. And the black laced choker that was ever so slightly visible above the collar of her uniform. It was her tongue ring and her dark eyeliner. It was how she looked at me when we talked, with those eyes that just screamed confidence. With those eyes that knew exactly what they wanted…