The first bottle of wine was wonderful, the second was excellent, and I was barely able to keep up with conversation by the third. Amanda kept jumping in to the conversation and saving me. "What Robert meant was ...", "Let me explain ..." If she wasn't there smoothing out the conversation I would have probably said enough to make me a social outcast. At some point, I stopped remembering dinner altogether.
Samantha was on top of me, making love like she never had before. She was wearing a couture leopard-print dress that she recently bought, and I had torn the top down to her waist. She was purring, laughing, and crying all at once. She screamed and tossed her blond hair back, and I came.
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