The surprise, for me, was not how horny we were but how badly we wanted to give each other pleasure—unlike with Matt, sex with Ryan was an unexpectedly sensual experience, he was curious and relaxed and the sex played out longer because we wanted it to, there was no need to hurry and get it over with, because we had all weekend, there was no time limit. And there was nothing but the sex: there was no domestic situation playing itself out, no guilty conversations about what we were doing, no one was racked with anxiety, neither one of us inhabited a particular role, no one was only passive, no one was only dominant—I fucked Ryan the same amount of times he penetrated and fucked me and often we switched off, took turns fucking each other in the same session until both of us were aching to ejaculate and couldn’t hold it in any longer. And I was amazed looking down on his muscled back flexing with a sheen of sweat while he was on all fours, his pale ass spread open, allowing my cock to slide in and out of him while he muttered obscenities urging me on, that Matt Kellner didn’t exist anymore—Ryan had erased him.