Fucking her—yes, fucking her—on Machu Picchu was a man who had staggered out of a desert and toppled into an oasis, gulping water; but by Hong Kong fucking her was a singles bar sophisticate, ordering his fourth Martini, shaken not stirred.
What sick, sick mania—what sexual phases of the moon—seemingly require a man to sleep in a different bed every night?
Is he already bored?
God...surely not!
Ins and Outs on the Ups and Downs that include some Notes on the Cut, Thrust and Parry that is part of the Great Game--Sexual Politics. And encompassing too Single Men and Women and the Pleasures of Youth.
