What Will thinks when he meets Rebecca.
The night I met Rebecca I could tell there was something unusual about her. Yes, she looked like your typical successful New York woman, street savvy and smart who takes good care of herself. And she was sexy as hell. Fit in a way that let me know she likes to eat, but not so much to get fat. Curves in all the right places. And that skin. Rebecca has this extraordinary ivory skin that makes that jet-black hair look even darker. From the moment I met her, all I could think about was what she would look like, artfully bound and naked, her hands tied behind her back, begging for me to touch her.
I could tell that underneath there was a different kind of edge. That Rebecca was a woman who liked to experiment. One for whom ordinary would never be satisfying. At least that’s what I was hoping.
On paper I look like the perfect guy. I’ve had my financial success, I know the right people, I’m educated, I’m told a good wit, physically fit and I do have a gentle caring side to me. But as far as sex, my tastes are unusual. Some would say not normal, to which my answer always is, who decides what normal is? Vanilla sex can be hot and satisfying and wonderfully intimate, but as a steady diet? It would be like telling me I was only going to get to eat plain hamburger, no bun, no cheese, and no ketchup for the rest of my life. Which is why I have troubles with women.
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