Fleshbotted, here.

Open the door. What do you see? Me. You see me.

Look at me. Go on, look.

See the glint in my eye? You know what that means.

See the curve of my hip, cocked, with my hand resting gently upon it.

As i stand. Waiting for you. Wordlessly inviting you.

Come on. Come to me.

Come and get me.

See the glimpse of my thigh, visible through the elegantly draped slit in my skirt. Imagine your hand running up it. Imagine your fingers trailing up it seductively… from my ankle, to behind my knee and then…

Onwards. Up my thigh, moving inwards, the skin growing warmer as you progress further.

I know you can see me.

I know you want me.

Take me. I’ve waited long enough.

Feel the softness of my lips against yours. Of my hand against your cheek. Of my breasts against your chest.

See how easily my blouse slips off my shoulders? Doesn’t my shoulder look inviting? A kiss, a nibble, a nip… a bite? No underwear… no markings… no problem.

Your hands and your mouth delight in the luscious fullness of my breasts; lush and golden with rosy-hued tips. You could drown in them… and die happy.

Stand behind me, you can do that without letting go. Keep one hand there, guarding your spoils. I won’t complain.

Use your other hand to explore further South… tickle that sensitive area around my navel… stroke the silkiness a little further below… and then you’ll find that silky soon becomes slick, plump and moist.

Don’t neglect the soft flesh into which your cock is pressing. Your naked cock. My accomodating ass. Your hard, throbbing cock. My warm, open ass.

You know what to do. You have free rein.

* * *

I’m losing the ability to instruct you.

Can’t… focus.

Ecstasy… taking over.

Mind… blurry….

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…

And there i am. With you.

A tableau of sensuality.

Flung over the back of the armchair, almost carelessly.

Abandoned and open to you.

Arms akimbo, clothes discarded.

You’ll take me every way you want me.

Every way you can.

Every way i want you to.

You know it’s what you want.

Fleshbotted again, here.

I was on the phone to my friend Mazzy as i approached the cafe.

“I have to go, love. I’m nearly there, and it’s just rude to approach someone you’ve never met on the phone to someone else.”

“Of course you must go. We’ll talk tonight, yes?”

I could see him looking at me through the tangle of shrubs and the obligatory parked car outside the cafe. It’s one of the hippest areas in town, which explains the constant absence of parking spaces. However, once inside the confines of the cafe, it was very pleasant — if you ignored the 32+ degree heatwave.

As I approached the table, he made eye contact, and smiled an absolutely charming smile. The sort of smile that was so bewitching that if you could bottle whatever powered it, you could make a fortune. And his eyes — holy fuck-me-slowly. What eyes he had! Like a green crystal, with the twinkle of a man in serious lust.

He’d called me to ask what to order for me, since he knew I’d be later than him at the place by about ten minutes, and my double latte was waiting for me. We sat and sipped, and talked small talk — the various circumstances that had brought us to this place, what we were both looking for and so on. After about twenty minutes, he leaned over and began rummaging through his laptop knapsack.

“I brought you a present,” he said, producing a gaily-wrapped parcel and handing it to me.

“How sweet!” I exclaimed and moved as if to begin carefully removing the Scotch tape — which was when he put his hand over mine to stop me.

“That’s the first time he’s touched you,” noted the little man in my head. “I like the feel of his hand on your arm, don’t you? Strong but not overpowering. Comfortingly masculine. There are shivers running up and down your spine as a result. Mmmm. Why does he have his hand on your arm?”

Good question.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

He looked into my eyes, and said in a low tone, “I would suggest that you take your gift to the bathroom, and open it there. It’s not the sort of gift that was designed for public consumption.”

My mind boggled. As well it might have.

The bright coloured wrapping was innocuous enough not to draw any special attention from a casual glance. However, I’m used to the more obvious range of store wrapping paper, as a result of being a mother with small children who attend birthday parties, so it was glaringly obvious to me that whatever was contained in this intriguing package was not something that could be put away for a random five-year-old.

The bathroom was, as they often are, clean, nicely furnished but ridiculously cramped. I maneuvered my way in expertly, and swung my shoulder bag so that i could reach inside it. Withdrawing the package, i tore off the paper hastily, patience never having been one of my virtues.

My first thought?

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

It was a brand spanking new Butterfly.

I’m not sure if you recall my wish to own one of these delightful items. It was always a fantasy of Henry’s, to have me wear a Butterfly, of which he had full control, while i attended to the needs of another man; Henry having hand-picked both the man and the toy for my explicit pleasure. However, the idea of owning a remotely controlled device, the control for which I could hand to a partner for the sole purpose of arousing and tormenting me at his whim, appealed to me enormously.

Once I’d secured the device about my person, I returned to our table, where he sat waiting expectantly, and handed him the remote.

(By the way, is it just me, or do elasticated harnesses, despite being essential, detract somewhat from the funky sexiness of a personal clit stimulator? And all that reaching underneath my crotch, and behind my thighs had me feeling like a human pretzel, and not in a sexy way. I mean, I know it’s a means to an end, which was what made the situation far less problematic.

I guess i shouldn’t complain. Not that it ever stops me.)

He signalled the waiter to bring the bill, and we left the cafe, making a beeline for a nearby sushi restaurant, partly because it turns out that we’re both big on the Japanese eating experience, and partly because we could sit side by side. At the bar.Thighs side by side, wandering hands, and unseen but nonetheless enticing vibrations teasing and stimulating my clitoris. And all in public, although with little chance of being noticed. The perfect setting for public misbehaviour. Fun unparalleled.

Despite being confronted with what is quite possibly the best Miso soup on the planet, I suddenly found myself with an abject loss of appetite. Not to mention an absence of my usually prolific capacity to speak. This is something that is not a concept with which I am familiar.

He sat there, one hand around my waist, one on my leg, delighting in my laconic reticence, which was punctuated by the occasional muted moan and sigh. He put his other hand on my inner thigh and drew concentric circles, as he leaned in closer to me, and subtly kissed my neck.

I nearly came right there and then.

I’d often fantasised about public misbehaviour, but this was the first opportunity to actually realise it, excepting a couple of fumbled gropes here and there over the years. This was not only the most fun I ever had when sushi was present, but it was also a remarkable learning curve for me.

I learned that, as i had suspected, I have a broad streak of exhibitionism in me. This experience is, mark my words, only the tip of the iceberg.

I also learned that apparently i lose my appetite when being aroused. i had no idea. It was simply not an issue I’d ever come across previously. All i knew about food and sex was that after sex, i could eat a steak the size of a cow. Preferably still mooing. Heh.

Either way, this guy is something special. A butterfly on a first date? Holy mother of pearl. I can’t wait for date number two. And that’s tonight.

Watch this space…

Fleshbotted again.

The blindfold covers my eyes, and world goes dark at the same moment i hear the door slam shut. For a moment my heart stops; my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my lips; my head a-whirl and spinning… Then i feel the telltale breath on my neck, as a hand runs deliberately and slowly down my arm, coming to rest on my abdomen, pulling me tightly into him.

I’m not afraid. i know what is happening. Fear of the unknown is something that has never troubled me during the various experiments that we’ve tried. He could easily overpower me, but he won’t. This isn’t about BDSM in any way. This is about the element of surprise.

I lean back onto his chest. I can sense that he’s taller than I am, and much stronger. His free hand raises to my face, and traces the outline of my cheek, allowing me to smell the heady scent of the soft Italian leather of his jacket. His finger brushes my lips, pausing just long enough for me to enclose a finger between them, and softly lick it.

His torso presses into my back, and his hips tilt towards me seductively. I melt back into him, knowing that i can only remain passive for so long; desperately hoping he can sense the urgency i feel; the need to be taken, and taken now. Hard, fast and furious; this was the brief.

My doubts linger for a second, but are suddenly dispelled, when in one movement his hand moves swiftly to my neck, and rips my tee shirt down the front, exposing my unfettered breasts with their erect and tingling nipples.

The gentleness he exhibited prior to this latest development has abruptly halted, but his movements haven’t. He pivots me 180 degrees, bringing my face to his and kissing me urgently, his hands still roaming my body and ripping items of clothing away from it.

No slack myself in the urgent desire stakes, i match his ardor and grapple wildly at what i fumblingly find is his crotch in a vain attempt to unzip him, and release the hard, throbbing cock that i had felt digging into my ass only moments earlier.

My plans are foiled, however, when he pulls his pelvis away from my eager hands. I feel his head at thigh-level, as he moves himself down me to a crouching position, all the better to pull off my shorts and expose my neatly trimmed pubis to his inquisitive tongue.

I’m momentarily dumb stricken as he pushes his mouth into my cunt, his probing tongue reaching deeper than i would have expected. His hands manage to simultaneously grasp my buttocks, and feel between them, his long fingers sneaking into my crack and stroking between it, even reaching my now sopping wet labia in their enthusiasm.

My speechlessness ends as i hear myself yelp with pleasure. I feel my knees weaken, and grasp his thick red hair just above his ears to let him know that if he doesn’t situate me horizontally himself, it may happen in a manner more uncontrolled – something I’d rather not experience in my state of enforced darkness.

Taking the hint, he removes one hand from my ass and cunt, and cuffs me behind the knees, catching me as i crumple, laying me on the rug, and in doing so dislodging my blindfold. I see he is still fully clothed, apart from a gaping maw of a fly from which protrudes his cock; a most appetizing spectacle that i suddenly need inside me more than i ever needed anything before. I don’t have long to view it though, as he rapidly shrugs off his jacket and jeans, and his black shirt, then repositions the blindfold before returning to his continued worship of my cunt, as i resume my squeals of delight.

I wrap my legs around his head, holding him fast to me, arching in ecstasy as his active tongue strokes my clit. One of his hands slips a finger into my anus, and the other enters first two, then three, then four fingers into my cunt; the combination of which sends me to an even greater plane of ecstasy. My sightlessness only accentuates the feeling, and i feel the spiral whirl me yet higher.

I feel myself edging closer and closer to orgasm with each ruthless lick of his tongue; in my continued darkness i feel the myriad colors of exquisite orgasmic joy explode around me as it hits. Prism-like waves of bliss wash over me, and I am vaguely aware of a distant voice praising various religious icons and saviors… a voice, it later occurs to me, that is my own.

I release my grip on his hair, relaxing my fingers from where they are currently tightly entangled, and slowly uncross my legs so that he can move up towards me. I feel him gradually inch his way up towards me, languorously, methodically slowly; in sharp contrast to his earlier frenzied and fevered offensive. Delighting in this metered approach i wait patiently until i feel his lips against mine once more, and taste myself on him as he kisses me passionately.

Surreptitiously I undo my blindfold, knowing from the brush of his eyelashes against the curve of my cheekbones that his concentration is focused elsewhere. In a lightening movement, i cover his eyes with the slip of black satin, thus rendering him to now be the one surprised.

Continued from here: Part one, part two, part three

I lay back against the pillow, still catching my breath, as FS sat contemplating my body, marker in hand, coolly thinking about where exactly he would write a message for Mr Henry to read.

I smiled. I knew how much Mr Henry would love this, especially reading the proof of my actions as a bodily inscription. The thought of reclaiming me was what aroused him almost more than any other; and this non-permanent mark would send him off the charts.

FS exhaled audibly, and moved himself down the bed, until his face was level with my pubis, and i could feel his breath on my inner thigh. “Perfect,” he murmured as his head sank down between my legs. “Right… here.”

His head rested on my right thigh, as i felt the ticklish movements of the marker as it trailed over my inner left thigh. I barely dared breathe; his face was tantalizingly close to my labia, yet he was so intent on writing that he seemed to not have noticed. But i had, and it was all i could do to stop myself from scissoring my legs so that they ensnared his throat and brought his eager and talented tongue to my clit, to lap up the remnants of all he had gushed into me only a short while previously.

Eventually the tickling of the marker subsided, and i felt his head relax into my thigh. Languidly, he traced an imaginary border around his words, as he read them out to me:

“One of the most glorious fucks I’ve ever experienced. Juno is a gem, Mr H; you are a most fortunate individual.”

I blushed, and giggled nervously. “That’s such a lovely thing to say, FS. I’m really touched.”

He turned his head, and quickly flicked at my labia with his tongue, sending a frisson of excitement down my spine. I let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure, and shifted myself slightly so that my cunt was more accessible than ever to him.

He flicked his tongue again, this time lingering slightly longer; tracing a circle around my clit with his tongue as he had just done on my thigh with his finger.

“I’d say you certainly have been touched, you devilish vixen.”

My response was to sigh with pleasure again, and to wrap my thighs about him, so that he had no choice but to continue what he started. Fortunately, he seemed to have no objection to this, as his tongue delved further within me. I could feel his bold strokes, intersected with tickling nibbles and fairy kisses, as my cunt grew hotter and hotter, and the joy within me grew.

“Oh my god… oh Jesus, Mary and all the saints… god, yes. Yes. Yes!”

He eased the position of my legs around his neck slightly, so that he could alter his own position. Suddenly i felt three of his fingers slide inside me, and begin an in-out rhythm that had me spellbound with ecstasy. His tongue now concentrated firmly on my clit, lapping at the engorged bud of flesh as i writhed in exquisite enjoyment.

I neared my apex, and clutched wildly at his hair, as he sucked and savored me enthusiastically. Dimly i was aware of a key turning in the lock of the front door, and someone entering the house. It could only be one person; the one person i wanted here right now, to see me thrash about with such sensual abandon, as i soared closer and closer to my peak; the one person who would want to see me this way… my adored lover, Mr Henry.

Sure enough, the telltale creak of the bedroom door indicated to me that my beloved and voyeuristic partner had entered, and was surveying the scene with relish. I heard his low, throaty chuckle of approval, and a moment later felt him sit down on the bed next to me, and run his hand over my hard and upright nipples, and up to my face. He cupped my cheek in his palm and brought his lips to mine as i continued to contort and quiver with delight.

My orgasm hit, and i gushed all over FS’s face, which he gobbled at hungrily, as if it were manna from heaven. Mr Henry continued to kiss my face; on my cheeks, my eyelashes, my nose until he finally found my lips and we shared a long passionate clinch. I knew how aroused he was, and i knew he wanted nothing more than to reclaim me, but there were other priorities before i allowed him that.

FS disengaged from licking my labia, and rolled away from my legs. I guided Mr Henry’s head down to where FS’s head had just been, and parted my thighs, so that he could read the inscription easily.

He looked at me.

“A glorious fuck? A gem? Good man, FS. Your taste is exquisite. I’m so glad you enjoyed my lovely Juno. From the look on her face she enjoyed you too, immensely. And now, if you’ll excuse me, i have to reclaim her, make her mine again.”

He shed his clothes rapidly, and took me in his arms. I melted into him. And across the room, FS settled into prime voyeuristic pole position as Mr Henry repossessed what was rightfully his.


Continued from here…

Through the crowded bar, FS led me by the hand outside into the cold, making our way across the car park to his SUV.

My hand felt small and comforted by his, his long cool fingers wrapped around mine, his thumb stroking the back of mine gently. He strode ahead, pulling me behind him, not letting me go for a second. Not that I planned to go anywhere without him. I was too excited. Even once we were in the car, one hand held mine, as he steered with the other.

“Um.. could we make a quick stop here, please?” I asked him, indicating to the all-night convenience store.

“I have condoms,” he said, with a grin.

I blushed. “I have no doubt you do,” I replied, “But I need something else that you might not have.”

He turned and looked at me quizzically, with a mischievous grin.

“The mind boggles. I’ll wait for you here. You won’t be long?”

Assuring him I’d only be a minute, I unbuckled my seat belt and dashed out into the cold night, returning a couple of minutes later with a small plastic bag that I quickly tucked into my handbag.

“All will be revealed. Eventually,” I smiled. “Contain your soul in patience.”

I directed him through the brightly lit streets to our home, and he parked outside the front door. I couldn’t see Mr Henry’s car anywhere, which didn’t surprise me. He’d be home later. This was how he liked it.

Falling through the front door, he immediately took me in his arms, and bent his head to kiss me. I could smell a strong, manly aftershave that he must have used on his cheeks, and I noticed that his goatee was freshly trimmed.

I love a man with a goatee. It’s such a sexy look. Call me retro, it’s just the way I’m wired.

His lips were soft as they moved with mine, his tongue gently probing mine, licking my inner lip. My head was whirling — god, he was so damn sexy.

I broke away after a few minutes, and leaned against the wall for support, exhaling.

“You want a drink, or something?” I inquired.

He focused his dark gaze on me, and said nothing for a second. Then, in a hoarse whisper: “I want you, Juno. Just you.”

I extended a hand to him, and led him up the stairs to the master bedroom. I threw my handbag wildly over to the far corner, and then turned to face him. He then started removing my clothing, item by item, and flinging them across the room, one by one.

I let him. I let him do this. It excited me, and aroused me even more than I already was.

He gave me a little push, and my knees buckled, dropping me onto the bed. I shuffled myself backwards, and sat there, one knee bent, regarding him as he removed his own clothing, slowly, sensually… deliberately.

“There it is again,” he purred. “That come hither’ look you’ve been flashing me all evening. Do you mean it? Should I come hither?”

“What do you think?” I murmured, almost speechless with desire, and stretched out my arms towards him. In a second, he was lying beside me, holding me close, running his hands over my back and my torso as we kissed passionately.

I could feel his cock digging into my thigh, and reached one arm down to stroke it, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from him as I stroked the soft skin on his balls gently. Making an “O” with my thumb and index finger, I encircled his thick shaft and began to slowly stroke it; up and down, up and down. I could feel him getting harder within my hand with each stroke.

I extended my middle fingernail, and incorporated a little teasing into the stroking; up the shaft; around his cockhead, tracing the rim softly but firmly, so that he knew I was purposely toying with him. I felt him quiver with excitement next to me. I knew I could have him plunge that hardness straight into me, right that second, if I so chose, but I wanted to wait a little longer.

His hands gravitated to my ass and began to stroke me in turn, causing me to gasp with delight as his nimble fingers found every erogenous spot in the area, and engaged them. I was enraptured. He knew exactly where to touch me, and just the right way how.

I moved my mouth from his, and began kissing his bearded chin, with little nibbles and nips as I breathed into his cheek. He responded by kissing my face and neck, gravitating towards my very sensitive ear lobe, and nipping it.


His other hand was on my breast now, massaging it and mildly tweaking my nipple as I yelped in delight. I couldn’t believe how wet and aroused I continued to become — it was like a never ending upwards spiral.

As his cock hardened ever more within my hand, I found myself weakening; I could hold out no longer. I had to have that cock in me; in my hot, wet and pulsating cunt. Ruthlessly, I removed my hand from him and shifted my position so that my intentions were clear. Once again, our eyes met, and he paused for an eternal second, before smiling at me wickedly, and slowly spreading my thighs; holding them open willfully and waiting.

I lay there, almost insane with desire, my eyes begging him, pleading with him to fuck me. He arranged himself so that he was semi-upright, with my legs encircling his waist… and plunged straight into my slippery cunt, grunting my name, and holding himself there.

I could have died and gone to heaven. But the best was yet to come. And so was I.

He held my hips, and moved my body until his cock was hitting my G-spot each time he thrust into me. I was unable to do anything other than fuck him back; hard, fast, furious. Our eyes never left each other as we silently fucked. I could feeling him becoming more excited with each stroke, mirroring how I felt perfectly.

I too was nearing my peak, as his relentless stimulation of my G-spot with his hot, hard cock continued, but I wanted to come when he did.

“Are you close?” I gasped as he pumped into me.

“Yes. You?” he growled. I nodded.

“Oh god, oh yes… oh god yesssssss… oh Juno… Juno…. ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” was his strangled cry as he came, gushing come into me; my pussy contracting and clenching around him as I also peaked… coming for what seemed like hours on end, before finally subsiding.

He withdrew after a minute or two and collapsed next to me, once again taking me in his arms, but this time with a more affectionate gesture. We lay entangled, winded, each trying to catch our breath, in that glorious post-coital haze that surrounds a really good, compatible fuck.



Neither of us could muster anything more intelligible at that point.

Suddenly, I remembered something, and reached down to my handbag, which had fortuitously landed by the side of the bed, and extracted the purchase I had made on the way home, earlier. I handed it to him, and he looked at me inquiringly.

“What exactly do you want me to do with this marker pen?” he asked.

“It’s for you, to leave your mark, so that Mr Henry can see you were here. Not on the headboard. On me.”

An amused grin slowly spread across his face. I could see that the idea appealed to him, tickled him even.

“Give me a minute to think of an appropriate comment, and location.”

I smiled at him and nodded. It was the least I could do.

Continued here…

Continued from here…

We met in a wine bar, ostensibly an arranged encounter. Mr Henry and I had cast our net wide, trawling for possible compatibles, and had succeeded in landing one very interesting-sounding party.

We’d arranged to meet him at a popular local place, where it was usually quite busy. This generally helped rather than hindered, since the thrum of voices and smoke contrived to provide a sympathetic backdrop to what was essentially a very personal interview. For all parties involved.

It was a crisp, clear and freezing winter night. Mr Henry and I arrived in plenty of time, and found ourselves a corner booth.

“You get the drinks. I’m exhausted,” he said plaintively.

“Call yourself a gentleman, ha!” I laughingly chided him, and made my way through the busier-than-usual throng to the bar.

I placed my order with some difficulty. Since I’m not the tallest of women, to put it mildly, I was wearing heels, as I always do. Tonight was a very fetching pair of soft Italian leather boots, with a tapering heel of around three inches in height. As I stepped back away from the bar, I felt the unmistakable softness of toe beneath heel, and heard a yelp, and a throaty curse.

I whirled around, bubbling over with apologies, and came face-to-face with FS. Dancing grey eyes met my soft brown stare, and held it. He smiled, and extended his hand.

“FS,” he said. “And you are …?”

“Juno,” I replied, feeling shivers course through me like electricity as he took my hand in his.

“You’re Juno?” he said appreciatively. “It’s you I’ve come to meet. You and… Mr Henry, isn’t it?”

I nodded, looking him straight in the eye. He returned the look unflinchingly. His large cool hand still held mine, and I didn’t want him to let go.

I cast my eye over him rapidly, in the way that only a woman can. Subtly appreciative and almost imperceptible to the naked eye. I was only paying scant attention to the conversation, unable to tear my eyes from his, until he said something that penetrated my fog and we both began to laugh.

We stood there talking and laughing for about twenty minutes, oblivious to our surrounding. Suddenly Mr Henry appeared over FS’s shoulder, and looked at me quizzically.

“Having fun, angel?”

I handed him his forgotten drink, and smiled at him lovingly.

“Darling, this is FS. I trod on his toe, and he’s been making me laugh.”

FS finally released my hand, and shook Mr Henry’s.

“Glad to meet you, Mr Henry.”

He looked at us thoughtfully for a moment, and then turned and addressed me.

“Juno, darling, that was the office. I need to go in for a few hours… something urgent for the Sri Lankan account. Can I meet you at home later?”

I looked him square in the eye. I knew what he meant. This was our private code.

“Of course, baby. I’ll see you there later. Kiss me?”

He took me in his arms, and kissed me slowly, gently teasing my tongue with his. His lips lingered on mine for as long as he could, before he pulled away regretfully, only to pause by my ear and breathe:

“Be as magnificent as you always are. And have fun. Tell me everything, and show me the proof later.”

He disappeared into the crowd, leaving FS and I together. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and then I took his hand in mine and met his gaze once more.

“It’s just us now,” I said.

He nodded.

“I hope that’s alright with you?”

Another nod, more fervent. And then:

“Can we go somewhere quieter to talk? This place is heaving tonight, I can barely hear myself think.”

I smiled at him.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Continued here….

It is not often that we meet someone compatible.

Not that finding a person who will agree to being the third in a threesome is difficult. Not at all. But compatibility… that’s the key.

Some background is required, I think. Mr Henry and I have been lovers for a long time. I adore him, and he adores me; he is the one true love of my life. We have no secrets, we share everything. And we indulge each others most intimate desires. Being with him means that I am truly happy for the first time in my life. Living with him has been nothing but bliss from day one.

Of course, it helps that our fantasies coincide. He and I are of one mind about many things. Intellectually we click. In terms of humor, we can amuse each other for hours. Affection-wise, we can lie in others arms for hours on end, just being together.

Sexually, he likes to share me, and I like to be shared. The idea of being the F in an MFM sandwich arouses me beyond belief. The idea of being cuckolded has a similar effect on him. We’re odd. But it works for us.

Finding the third person to join us in such a scenario takes time, patience and understanding. There are always many candidates for such a position, but it’s never a case of first come, first served (no pun intended). There are always “interviews” — at a quiet table in a wine bar, a chat that appears to all intents and purposes to be about the usual wine bar topics, but is in reality a careful screening of the person. It’s necessary…not just for instant removal of the weirdo in the pack, but also for compatibility issues.

No one had ever fit the compatibility register quite as well as FS.

Continued here