When Annie and I were younger, she had a favorite game.

She loved giving me a handjob in places where there was a real chance someone might notice what we were doing. Looking back, it wasn’t really about making me orgasm. That was almost beside the point. What she enjoyed was taking complete control of the situation while I sat there wondering if we were about to get caught. It was one of the first ways she really exercised authority over me, long before we had words like Female-Led Relationship or power exchange.

Movie theaters were probably her favorite.

It’s not like I ever fought her off when she’d quietly unzip my jeans under the giant tub of popcorn. I’d just look over at her with that expression that said, “Seriously?” while she smiled back as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Meanwhile, I was convinced every person walking down the aisle for more popcorn was about to look over and discover exactly what was happening.

They never did. Or if they did, they were kind enough to keep walking.

One attempt didn’t go quite according to Annie’s plan. She decided a drive through car wash would be perfect. The windows would be covered in soap, the machines would be loud, and we’d have a few minutes of privacy.

The problem was she seriously underestimated how quickly you come out the other side.

By the time the brushes stopped and the car rolled into daylight, she had me completely hard, but there was an employee standing right there at the exit smiling and waving traffic forward. I had to put the car in gear and drive while trying to look like a perfectly normal guy. Annie laughed so hard she could barely breathe. She considered it a successful experiment. I considered it proof that car washes aren’t nearly long enough.

The parties were always the funniest. Back then we had friends who hosted the kind of house parties where people wandered from room to room all night. Some people were drinking, others were pretty stoned, music was playing, and nobody paid much attention to who disappeared for a few minutes.

Annie took full advantage of that. Sometimes she’d quietly pull me into a spare bedroom. Sometimes it was a closet. Once it was a laundry room. One time, though, she didn’t even bother leaving the party.

She simply sat down on the couch, pulled a blanket over both of us, and started talking to people across the room like nothing unusual was happening. There were people only a few feet away, completely unaware while I was absolutely certain somebody was about to realize what Annie was doing under that blanket.

She’s really kept me on my toes all these years!