“Monsieur Donatien?” I cleared my throat.He nodded, patting some shavings from the front of his apron, “Madame Foster?”I nodded.“Un moment. ... am slicing your wood.”He disappeared again through the doorway, and the saw resumed its squealing.I shook my head, pacing away down a tight aisle lined with pipe straps, padlocks, and loops of chain in sundry gauges. My fingers slid softly along the links. They jingled against each other like a lumbering wind chime. Back in the back, the saw was still. While I had had wet dreams before, I did not know about semen and just thought I had peed. My friend reported similar “trouble” while he slept. Well, one hot summer afternoon, in our usual spot, naked and masturbating each other off, the usual “warm and tinglies” gave way to a sudden strong wave of euphoria and something imminent about to happen. I felt my body shudder and then a series of deep contractions began- with a new milky fluid now flowing out of my slit. My friend. More

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