I cocked an eyebrow at Cindy when she asked me to put my hands behind my back, but I did cooperate with her, holding one wrist with the opposite hand. It was going to be inconvenient, but Cindy would really be the big loser, because my hands were mostly going to be working to give her the more pleasure.

Then, she told me what she wanted from me. I considered my words for a moment, and then replied, loud enough for the audience to overhear if they tried to, but quietly enough that they could avoid hearing if they wished, "I'm not a poet myself, Cindy. But just at the moment, I want to find a set of stocks somewhere and lock you up, in the middle of the central quad at Stanford, and fuck you senseless in front of the entire student body. And then let the entire student body use you as well, auctioning off each turn to benefit some worthy charity. And do it all on nationwide cable TV. But that's not going to happen."

Grinning at her, I went on, "So, right here and now, I want to take you, but not from behind, where I can't see your face well enough, but face to face, up against the wall, so that all of your patrons can get the best possible view of you, side on. I want to suck your tits, nibbling on them, rubbing them with my hands, and I want to kiss you for minutes at a time and let the rest of the world go by.

"And there won't be an auction, but I'll bet that I could get a line to form up to go after me, once I've slipped my cock into you and fucked you until you can only stand up straight with assistance from me. But that's what I want most of all -- to fuck you, and to cum inside of you. And, sometime, I'd like a real date."