After the Reverend’s departure with his tail between his legs, the remainder of the party was a complete blast. Both Selene and I ended up being shagged to the point of near-insensibility and I, at least, had lost count of the number of orgasms I had experienced. After that, the affair devolved into an orgy, with friends and acquaintances and complete strangers fucking each other with abandon.

Later on, Selene and I sat together on a large couch being interviewed by countless numbers of reporters and bloggers, and by the most curious of the party guests. Both Dragon and Madame Maxine intervened from time to time, to deflect the most persistent interrogator or idiotic question, but in general we were happy to repeat our tale, with surprisingly little embellishment, and offer our opinions on topics diverse and curious.

Our fame, or at least notoriety, continued to spread, even after the party. The news of Selene's escape, or rescue, or release - whatever the correct description is - was the talk of the blogs for weeks afterwards; there was relentless interest from the news channels and reporters alike, and anyone who knew me even slightly before the rescue seemed keen to extend their acquaintance and to meet Selene, of course. I was informed, after I remembered to enquire of the automation, that at any one time, hundreds or even thousands of people were observing us - remotely, of course, facilitated by the PA - even weeks after the incident.

We received a great many invitations to visit for dinner, or a party, or an orgy: far too many for us to take up more than a miniscule number of them. Even so, as the invitations flowed in, I was keen to show Selene as much of the city and its peoples as I reasonably could. She too was enthusiastic about this project, and we busied ourselves filling our joint social calendar with a whirlwind of activities.

One invitation we did accept was from the artist Jackie Yamamoto, for whom I had once delivered a package. His terse note, addressed to both of us and delivered by the automation, read: "Please join me for a poolside lunch, and later a viewing of my recent artworks."

I spoke a short acceptance, which was transcribed and grammatically corrected by the automation into the elegant cursive script I prefer before being whisked away for delivery.

The morning for our lunch date arrived. Our visit involved a fairly long trip on the Metro, with just a single change at a downtown station. As I have previously observed, travel by Metro is a surprisingly fun way of observing other people enjoying themselves, and even taking part in an occasional encounter or two.

Selene and I wiled away the time chatting, holding hands and kissing occasionally, and otherwise indulging in a little people-watching. Having spent so long in a cloistered environment, Selene is sometimes a little nervous in crowds, although she seems to be getting over that, judging by a variety of recent experiences. But she does have a continued fascination with the different Kinds that our society includes, as well as the kinds of sex that people of all shapes enjoy.

The Metro cars pulled up and the doors slid open. We stepped on board and made our way to a pair of empty seats in the middle of the carriage. In the seating opposite, two men in old-fashioned but well-tailored business suits sat together, kissing passionately.

One man, tall and dark-skinned with a mass of dreadlocks tumbling over his crisp white linen shirt collar, had just slid one hand inside the other's opened trousers and loosened his already-hard dick which now protruded visibly from between his legs. Within moments, the dark-haired man had bent low into the other's lap, apparently cupping his balls and sucking on his cock before drawing back momentarily to lick his helmet which I could see was now glistening with saliva.

The other man - shorter and sandy-haired with just a suggestion of boyish freckles on his face, and with blocky and powerful shoulders filling his suit jacket - lay back, clearly appreciating the oral attentions of his acquaintance so thoroughly that I thought he might be at risk that his head might bang on the glass of the windows behind him. Selene nudged me surreptitiously and giggled into my ear when she caught the eye of the cock-sucking man as he tossed back his long heavy locks, better to take the other man's cock deep in his throat.

Unfortunately, before I could discover exactly how their games would end, we arrived at the stop where Selene and I must alight in order to transfer to line J. I stepped onto the platform and looked back over my shoulder as the doors closed with a hiss and the carriages started to move again. Through the windows, I could just glimpse the dark-haired man, now himself laying back on the seating. The sandy-haired man had disappeared from view, no doubt now returning the oral favors.

Best for all concerned to change and change about, I thought, just like everything else in the world.

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