Jon made it clear from the beginning that I was the "other woman." It was our first night together; we had met earlier in the evening at a friend's dinner party. I was attending fresh on the heels of a nasty breakup and he had just returned to the States after traveling to the far reaches of the world as an anthropologist. Somewhere between the crudités and the crème brulee, he wooed me with his bright, mischievous eyes and his easy laugh, and before I knew it, I was lying naked on his bed as he deftly snaked his tongue along the curve of my spine. His hands grasped my hips firmly, so he could feel my body shudder in anticipation and delight as he tended to each vertebrae as though it were a valuable artifact. Then, as he licked the crescent of my ass, forcing my thighs apart with his strong forearms, just before he thrust his tongue into my warm, wet pussy, he told me in his sleepy, sonorous voice:
"I have a girlfriend in Japan. She's the love of my life. But I want you more than anything right now."