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Not long ago I wandered over to a friend’s house late in the evening for a little fun. He had a fire burning and candles lit all over the house. It was just lovely.

Also just lovely was the fact that he’d laid out a selection of porn on the coffee table. It wasn’t great porn, but we gigglingly chose a title and set it to play.

As we waited through the obligatory warnings against copyright infringement, I took stock of the other items on his coffee table: a few pictures, some magazines, and a stack of books. The top book caught my eye.

“This is a strange juxtaposition,” I said to him. “How often do you find ‘Cheerleader Anal Gangbangs Vol 27′ right next to the Bible?”

“You might be surprised,” he told me, then he wiggled me out of my jeans and dove between my legs.

I arched and came when his tongue touched my happy spot*, but after I settled down, I noticed something troubling. I tilted my head one way then the other. I tried gently to reposition the pillow without at the same time repositioning his lips, which were in a really wonderful place. I reached out with my toes but I just couldn’t solve the problem on my own. I had to ask for assistance.

“Excuse me,” I said softly. “Could you please move your Bible? It’s blocking my view of the porn.”

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*This is the first time I’ve used the phrase “happy spot” as a euphemism for “clitoris.” I promise never to do so again.