![]() ![]() When I said goodbye to Pablo, he asked, “Can we just have sex real quick before you go?” I went out to the soft room and saw to my relief that Didi was starting to get dressed. I didn’t particularly want Pablo to turn his attention back to my “pregnant boobies” - I wanted to come down from this bizarre evening. I went to the bathroom and took a breather, and once I’d gotten some space from the soft room, I realized that what I actually wanted was to go home. “Call me,” I wanted to say (but I did not). I wanted to pay this guy back like it was my job - or, you know, at least cuddle. They were beautifully lit up by the fireplace and obviously having a wonderful time, but Rob and I were in our own little world.Įventually, he decided that was the end of that, and after I gave him the thank-you kiss to end all thank-you kisses, went to go check on Emma. Every now and then I looked over at our cohorts: Pablo doing Didi from behind or Cassie doing Emma with a strap-on. I have no idea how many orgasms I had, but it was a sizable number. But Rob and I ended up in a corner of our own, where he went down on me for about a year. ![]() Around this point is when I started thinking, “All right, Pablo, take it easy on the pregnancy-fetish thing.” He was obsessed with my naked pregnant body, at one point actually saying the words, “Mmm, pregnant boobies.” I am not making that up that’s literally a thing that he said.Įnter Rob, gorgeous Rob, who I don’t remember saying a single word before that point, though I know he must have. So Pablo, Didi and I all started kissing. It’s the ideal room for napping, having a tantrum or - let’s just say - group sex. Then the six of us all convened in a room called “the soft room.” The soft room is exactly what it sounds like. Pablo thought I looked so nice with my pregnant belly in my red dress, he asked if he could take my picture, and I said yes. We stood on the staircase together giggling in shock: “Dude, fuck art! Look at this place!” As struggling theater artists, we both just aspired to live in apartments with windows that didn’t look out directly onto brick walls. This was in March or something.)ĭidi and I were awestruck. And yes, there was a hot tub on the roof. It was huge even by non-New York City standards, exquisitely decorated, everything was automated and so on. We get to Pablo’s loft, and, like… I guess the hotel business in Argentina is a pretty good gig, because this place was ridiculous. ![]() So it’s me, Pablo, Didi, Pablo’s friend Cassie (a reiki practitioner) and a couple we’ll call Rob and Emma. How could I turn down such an auspicious invitation? Again, I’m a big believer in taking advantage of unique life experiences when they present themselves. I just heard the words “hot tub on the roof” and immediately said yes. Pregnant women are not supposed to go in hot tubs. ![]()
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