We’re back in our downtown hotel suite after spotting you at the bar. The three of us just walked in; the minibar is open, the lights are low, and the king-size bed is already turned down. Your girlfriend is curled on the couch in a tight black dress, sipping her drink, while I pour shots and explain the rules.

You are my boyfriend of three years; the guy who sometimes wins and sometimes loses when we bring someone back to judge who fucks me better.