Plays Well With Others

For the creatives

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Edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel

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“Hey, June.”

I almost dropped the phone hearing the voice on the other end. I liked Caylen a lot—likely more than any other singles in my forty-plus playgroup. I felt a rush of heat enter my face. It was always like this when talking to, or even thinking about this man. Suddenly I became a drooling teenager. Perhaps it was knowing what he could do to me—or make my body do—that made me respond so hard. I was an instant puddle of lust, melting into the phone, catching myself on a chair before I hit the floor.

“Caylen …” A lump stuck in my throat. Even with a regular lover in my bed, it hadn’t been often enough to fill my endless sexual cravings. I always have, and think I always will, want more. I found myself visualizing Caylen’s tall muscular form, his smooth, dark skin, and his thick, meaty manhood. The heat in my face traveled downward, growing in my belly, and warmed me straight to my toes.

“I’ve got this naked new apartment. It’s stark white and ugly. I need you to come over and help me paint.”

Busy street noises filled my ear. I visualized Caylen on the city sidewalk, walking his commute, as I understood he liked to do. A car horn honked impatiently and Caylen’s voice became difficult to hear. The timing was brilliantly convenient because naked was the one word imprinted in my brain....