CFNM Party

It was Saturday, and I had three possible shows lined up. The first one canceled due to all the girls being hung over from the previous night, and the second one never finalized the booking, leaving me with just one bachelorette party for the night. 

The girl who hired me owned a beachfront house. It was a ranch style house from the 80s era with a redbrick exterior. It was not a large house, but it must have been worth a lot of money due to its location, especially having a backyard of sugar-white sand that spread out before the Gulf of Mexico.

There were approximately a dozen girls present, and they were all the middle to upper class types. The bachelorette did not know I was coming, so the other girls wanted me to surprise her with the cop outfit. 

Basically, I would arrive and pull the traditional “noise complaint” routine. 

When I knocked and entered the house, I saw the bachelorette right away. She was a short and petite girl with dirty blonde hair and hazel colored eyes. She was wearing a tight, white, mini dress. When I berated the crowd for being loud, the bride giggled uncontrollably and would not stop. I could not tell whether she bought my routine or not.

“Ma’am, are you high on drugs or somethin’?” I asked her in a stern tone, shining my flashlight at her. 

She covered her mouth and laughed some more. 

I approached and frisked her like I was searching for contraband.  She bent over in laughter. She knew I was the stripper already. I took her to the couch and started my strip tease. Someone turned the music up louder. 

The women cheered when I took off my gun belt and rubbed it back and forth on my ass like I was drying myself off with a towel. Next, I took off my police shirt, and the cheers swelled to a roar. 

 I grabbed the bride’s hands and placed them on my abs. She felt my muscles and smiled with pleasure. Then, I directed her hands towards my ass, which she clutched firmly. Judging by her enthusiasm, I knew that this was going to a great party. 

Several girls pinned dollar bills into various areas of the bride’s dress, which I extracted out, using my tongue to caress her skin while doing so. 

As I straddled her, the bride squeezed my arms, feeling my muscles. Her breath came in labored gasps.

I stood up and ordered her to take off my pants, a command which she obeyed with glee. She pulled my pants down and took them off over my boots one leg at a time, exposing my thong, which was pleather and had snap-on straps on each side. 

The girls in the background screamed and hollered once they saw me only in my thong and knee-high patent leather boots. 

After working on the bride, I moved on to the other girls, most of whom were just as motivated to indulge themselves with me. As I worked on the Maid of Honor, another girl sprayed whipped crème on her breasts for me to lick off. 

I performed my male stripper’s version of a “lap dance” on the girls wearing dresses by lifting up their dresses and rubbing the bulge of my thong against their panties. One girl asked me not to lift up her dress because she wasn’t wearing panties.  

We soon degraded into body shots and strawberries. First, I would place a strawberry in a girl’s mouth, telling her to hold the strawberry, but not bite down on it. Then I would take a shot of liquor from her belly button and take the strawberry from her mouth with my teeth. This action resulted in me making out with several of the girls at the party. 

Several girls commented about how horny I made them feel. 

At this point, most of them were very drunk and stumbling about.

Someone got the bright idea to blindfold and handcuff me with one of the bride’s bondage gifts, which was probably meant for her husband to use. The blindfold had the design of a black and white tuxedo, and the handcuffs were like tuxedo cuffs attached together with a small chain. Once the girls put the handcuffs on me and blindfolded me, they pushed me against the couch and took turns spraying whipped crème on me and licking it off. 

I couldn’t see a thing, but only hear and feel. First they started with my abs and pecs. Then, they moved down to my thighs. Different girls took turns licking the sticky mess from me. One girl took time to suck on my nipples and lightly bite them. They became more adventurous with each moment.

After several different hands groped me and several different tongues ran across me, I felt whipped crème being sprayed on my crotch. A tongue pushed against my cock as a chorus of giggled followed. They added more whipped crème on my crotch. Another girl dared to take it all. I could not see what was happening, but the sensations aroused me.

“Look, he’s getting starting to get hard,” one girl noted. 

“I bet he’ll like this one then.”

I felt whipped crème being sprayed onto both sides of my crotch, followed by two tongues licking it. I moaned. 

One of the more conservative members of the group announced that things were getting out of hand and asked that everyone stop. 

I lifted the blindfold and undid the cuffs, which was only bound together with Velcro. 

I looked down at my chest and abs and they were covered with a film of melted whipped crème. It was sticky. Someone handed me a towel.

After these activities, I thought the party was close to over. However, some of the girls wanted more. 

“I want to see your cock,” the Maid of Honor said.

The bachelorette joined in. “Yeah, show us your penis.”

Some of the other girls did not share these sentiments though. A few frowned apprehensively. One girl shook her head. 

I thought it was wise to avoid exposing myself with the two factions disagreeing with each other on the issue. The last thing I wanted was for some drama to break out, so I ignored the requests for nudity. 

The bride and the Maid of Honor were persistent though. Several of their close friends even took interest.

“He can take it all off for you in the bedroom away from the others, so they won’t judge you,” the Maid of Honor suggested to the bride.

The bride’s eyes lit up at the notion. She whispered something into the Maid of Honor’s ear.

Apparently, the bride wanted look sexy for me and dress up in her new lingerie outfit, which was recently given to her as a gift, and most likely meant for her soon-to-be-husband.  It was ironic how I got to enjoy her outfit first.

While she was getting dressed, I asked for permission to take a shower to wash the sticky residue off my body. The girls did not mind, and I finished rinsing off before the bride even finished changing clothes. 

I was astonished at the sight of the bride when she came out of the bedroom. She was wearing a black, mesh halter slip, which did little to hide her small breasts. Her black thong revealed her small, round ass. 

The plan was for the bride and three of her close friends to get a private nude show from me in the bedroom, so the other girls who had a problem with the situation wouldn’t be able to see anything and complain.

The curious entourage consisted of the bride, her Maid of Honor, a black haired girl who had big breasts and worked as a nurse, and a perky brunette. 

All five of us entered the bedroom and shut the door. The other girls ushered the bachelorette onto the bed and blindfolded her with the tuxedo mask that was used on me earlier. I climbed atop of her still in my thong. I undid the straps of the thong.

The other three other girls in the background watched silently. It was surreal. I felt like I was on the set of a porn studio.  

Just as I began to take off my thong, someone began knocking on the door to the bedroom.

“Go away,” the black-hair girl said.

The knocking continued. 

“Leave us alone,” the brunette said.

The knocking became louder. I put my thong back on. 

“I think we better answer that door,” I said. 

The girls in the bedroom showed reluctance to open the door, but I knew that drama would continue to stew even the lid was still on the pot. 

I jumped off the bride and answered the door, and a wavy-haired girl entered the room and demanded that we stop our activities. 

“No,” the dark-haired nurse said. “The bride needs to have fun.”

“She gonna regret it in the morning,” the wavy-haired girl said. 

“Let her have fun and stop worrying about it.”

The dark-haired nurse and the wavy-haired girl glared at each other as though they were trying to burn holes into the other with their eyes alone.

Not wanting the tension to escalate, I cut in and said, “It’s all right. We should stop. I gotta go soon anyway. We can take some group pictures.”

The two girls stared at each other as if they were on the verge of declaring war for a little while longer before breaking away, and I walked out and made the announcement about the group pictures to everyone else. The other girls inside the room seemed disappointed with their private nude show being cut short, but they made their way outside to join the rest of the party. 

While everyone was preparing the proper place to take pictures, the wavy haired girl came up to me and said, “I’m sorry about crashing the party, but I know the bride is going to regret it in the morning. She’s gets crazy when she’s drunk and always regrets it.” 

I put my hand on her shoulder and shook my head. “Don’t apologize for looking out for your friend.”

“Well, everyone probably thinks I’m a bitch for ruining all the fun.”

I shook my head again. “Some people just have different views on how the bride should have fun. That’s all. There’s no need to get upset because someone disagrees with you. You did what you felt was right.” 

She hugged me. “Thank you for being understanding.” 

The girls had trouble getting the camera prepared. I had to help them set up the camera’s position and the timer. The bride posed next to me in the center of the picture and everyone else huddled around. We took a few pictures and called it a night. 

“Everyone give Dion a hand,” one girl said.

The girls cheered and clapped. Then they started chanting, “Dion! Dion! Dion!” 

I thanked all of them.

The party was officially over. Most of the girls shuffled out of the room, some going outside the front door to smoke. Only the bride and the Maid of Honor remained. 

“I still didn’t get to see your cock,” the Maid of Honor said with a pouty face. 

“Yeah, you should give a quick private show,” the bride said, looking around.

I felt torn. I really did not want to offend the other girls at the party, but wanted to give these three girls their satisfaction at the same time. There was also the prospect of satiating my own personal thrills.

 “No one is around,” the bride said. “We can go to the back patio.”

She was right. There was no one on the back patio. Everyone was either outside at the front, or in another room. 

The Maid of Honor grabbed my hand and pulled me through the glass sliding door that connected to the back patio. I followed her. 

The back patio had a leather couch where the Maid of Honor and the bride sat down and stared at me expectantly. We were completely out of sight from the living room, but all someone had to do was walk through the glass sliding door to see us.

“Hurry,” the Maid of Honor said. “There’s no one around.”

“Let me check,” I said.

The Maid of Honor accompanied me over to the sliding glass door. We looked through and had a clear view of the living room and kitchen. A blonde girl was cleaning up the kitchen. She saw us and gave a smile and a wink. 

“She’s all for it,” the Maid of Honor said. “Let’s go.”

We returned to the couch. The Maid of Honor and the bride sat in front of me as I stood before them. Just as I was about to take my thong off, someone entered the back patio. We all jumped in surprise. 

It was the nurse. 

“Keep going,” she said. “I want to see too.” 

She took her place next to me and got on her knees, resting her hands on my thighs as I slowly unsnapped my thong and pulled it away to reveal my cock. The bride gasped. All three pairs of eyes focused on my cock. 

The nurse grabbed my cock and began stroking it. I exhaled in pleasure. 

“I think he likes it,” the Maid of Honor said quietly. 

The bride covered her mouth and stared, her eyes filled with guilty pleasure. 

The nurse stopped for a moment. 

“Don’t stop,” I breathed.

“See, he likes it. It’s growing.”

“I bet you love your job,” the bride said. 

At this particular moment, I loved my job very much. 

The nurse resumed stroking my cock, and the Maid of Honor reached out her hand to join. The touch of both girls further aroused me. 

“Wow,” the Maid of Honor said, watching my cock grow. 

“Oh my God…” the bride gasped. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

I couldn’t believe it either. 

The girls murmured in low tones about my cock and my body like I was some sort of specimen that they were studying and admiring. The combined touch of the Maid of Honor and the nurse felt soft and gentle. We all gave an occasional glance at the sliding door as though expecting someone else to burst through any moment. 

“You should suck his dick,” the Maid of Honor said to the nurse. 

“Really?” the nurse said.

“Yeah, suck his dick!” the bride added. 

“Why do you want me to suck his dick for?” the nurse asked, still stroking my cock. 

“Be-because… I’m horny,” the Maid of Honor said.

“Is there someone in the next room?” the nurse asked in concern. 

No one wanted to get up and check. I pulled myself away from the girls and crept over to the sliding doors with my hard-on at full salute and peered into the adjacent rooms. They were empty. 

“It’s clear,” I said, walking back over to the trio of girls.

The nurse was on her knees facing me and the Maid of Honor and the bride were still seated on the couch. 

“Okay,” the Maid of Honor whispered. “Suck his dick now.” 

I approached the nurse and stopped with my cock in front of her face.  She took it with one hand and lifted it into her mouth and started sucking, bobbing back and forth. 

It felt amazing. 

She could take a good portion of my cock into her mouth, more than the average girl. The Maid of Honor caressed me from the side, feeling my hips and ass with one hand. I looked down and saw her touching herself with her other hand. The bride leaned forward and stared at the scene before her with enlarged eyes.

The nurse was so good at what she was doing that it wouldn’t take me long to cum. She lifted my cock up to lick around the shaft, and she licked underneath and around my balls as she jacked me off. 

If there were a video camera present, then this scene would have made a satisfactory CFNM (clothed-female, nude-male) fetish video for a porn site. 

“Make him cum,” the Maid of Honor said. “I want to see it.” 

“You wanna see it?” I asked her.

“Yes…” 

If the nurse continued for another minute or two, then I would have been ready, but for some reason, the Maiden of Honor suddenly decided that now was the perfect time for moral reflection.

“You shouldn’t be sucking his cock,” she said to the nurse. “You’re married… and I have a boyfriend.”

The nurse stopped and looked at the Maid of Honor. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“I don’t know,” she said. 

A flicker of guilt sparked on the nurse’s face for an instant, but it disappeared just as quickly. She took my cock into her mouth and resumed the blowjob. The other two girls did not object to her action. 

It did not last long though. 

The sound of the front door opening followed by a chorus of voices jolted us from our privacy. The Maid of Honor and the bride jumped up from the couch, and the nurse backed away from my cock and stood up as though nothing had occurred. I fastened my thong quickly. Luckily, the fear of getting caught caused my hard-on to dissipate, so the other girls would not suspect any foul play immediately. 

Fortunately, no one else entered the back patio and I gathered my clothes. I was not going to push my luck by getting caught in the act. I did not want to be involved in the imminent drama, especially with the nurse being married and the Maid of Honor having a boyfriend. Not to mention, the bride played a role as well. 

The three girls hugged me as I prepared to leave and thanked me for showing them my cock. 

“I had a lotta fun!” the bride beamed. 

I did too. 

On my way out, I passed the other girls on the front porch. They were all smiles as they hugged me and thanked me for a good time. Fortunately, they did not suspect a thing. 

They would probably hear about it later ...

Weird E-mails

Here are two e-mails that I didn't really know what to do with (all spelling mistakes were left unchanged):

1st e-mail.
From: Noor
Subject: Stripers

Message:

Hi, i have a question.
How male stripers last so long? I mean how can they last long while there are group of girls blowing their duck off and they dont cum? What do they use??

Thanks with regards.
 
_________________________________

2nd e-mail.
From: Dj Pendleton-Daniels
Subject: The begining 

Message: 

Hey dion my name is dj and my wife believes i have wat it takes to be a male stripper... Yes i have stripped before but only for forplay. Ik i can do i just need to make my ads show more and get sone betta moves.... Any advice?

_________________________________

The Customers From Hell

After ten years of stripping, I never experienced a group of girls so disrespectful, rude, and trashy until now. In fact, tonight was the first time I ever told off a group of customers.

This party took place at a condo in Gulf Shores, Alabama, and it was a crowd consisting half of white girls and half of black girls. They called in at the last minute to book me. I had prior bachelorette party in Destin, Florida, so I took this gig since I was out and about.

The crowd from the first party treated me with adoration, and I drove to the second gig in an extremely good mood. Had I been a seer who could predict the future, then I would have called it a night and cancelled.

The customer's name was Wendy, and she booked me around 8 p.m. and wanted me there as soon as possible. Instead, my agent scheduled her party at 11:30 p.m. to midnight because my first party was at least a two-hour drive away. 

Problems arose before I even got there. Wendy repeatedly called me demanding to know where I was at. She wanted to reschedule the party for 10:30 p.m., but I told her that was impossible since I was just leaving Destin. I told her that I would arrive around midnight. As I neared her location, she called me several more times, gradually becoming drunker and more impatient each time. She screamed, "People are starting to fall asleep here!"

Book a stripper in advance next time, I thought. Her hostility unsettled me, but I remained hopeful that the other girls were more friendly.

Had Wendy booked a male stripper earlier instead of later, then the agency could have provided a male stripper at her convenience. Male strippers are not like taxi cabs, ready to deploy at a moment's notice. That was the first mishap.

The second mishap was entirely my fault. I arrived, met the customer outside, and collected the money. In my haste to get my police uniform ready and perform, I forgot my music player in the car. The girls had no music. So after I pulled the typical noise complaint routine, I realized there was no music had to pause the show to retrieve my music player out of my car. I apologized to everyone for my mistake. They said they wanted an extra twenty minutes for waiting.

"No problem," I said.

The bachelorette's overly drunken state caused the third mishap. I could not interact or perform for her. She slumped in her chair, eyes half shut. I felt like I was dancing for a corpse. She lethargically pointed to several of her friends and wanted me to dance for them instead.

Most of the crowd caused the fourth mishap. They did not want participate, which is crucial to a fun party. Instead, they pointed back at the bachelorette and told me to dance with her. It was like a game of Pong. They just bounced me back and forth, neither girl wanting me on their side.

The worst mishap came from an obese black lady dressed in purple; I will refer to her as the "Plum Girl." She resembled a gelatinous slug that oozed fat rolls over the chair she sat on. She weighed around 400 pounds and perpetually scowled at everything around her. Her personality was even uglier than her.

She insulted me by telling me that "I wasn't shit," and "I was boring," and "I need to get some betta music."

I ignored her, but her friends did not. Her loud voice spread like an infection across the room, and soon, several other girls started echoing her opinions, yet none of these critics dared to participate. A voice in the back of my mind told me to leave.

No matter how I danced or what I did, the crowd disapproved, then demanded some more dancing and some more action. They disapproved again when I did that. Exasperated, I asked them what they wanted me to do.

"Whaddaya mean what we want you to do?" Plum yelled. "You the male strippa, you supposed to be runnin' the show!"

Back to more dancing and disapproval. I knew this would not end well.

Finally I found three girls willing to participate. We danced, and I took body shots from two of them. We had a good vibe going between us. Had I had the ability to remove these three girls from this room and relocate them to a different place, then we would have had a great time.

While I was on the third girl, Plum Girl interrupted. "Why you all over her?! You need to be on the bride! See? She's goin' outside now! What the fuck!?"

The third girl cast me a sidelong apologetic look and scurried away, obvious in fear of Plum Girl's wrath.

By now, most of the girls were outside on the balcony, including the bachelorette. They were trash talking me. When I approached the bachelorette in one last attempt to salvage her party, she looked at me with glassy eyes and slurred, "I don't wanna dance wit ya."

Plum Girl chimed in, "See? She don't wanna dance wit you no more. You done fucked it all up. We callin' yo boss and gettin' a refund. We shouldn't have to pay for this shit! You did nuthin' n took our money!"

"Okay," I said. "That's it."

Wendy, the customer who paid me, picked up her cell phone said, "Yeah, I'm gonna call your boss and tell him that you fuckin' sucked so I can get a refund." 

I did not stay around to listen. I gathered my belongings and walked out the front door, leaving several of the one-dollar bills on the floor. I could have collected them, but the thought of staying around these girls a moment longer sickened me.

As I exited the condo, the Plum Girl shouted, "Make sure that front door is locked so he can't come back in!"

The door slammed once I reached the elevator, and I heard the sound of a lock clicking in place. 

On my way to my car, I pulled out my phone to text my agent what happened.

Me (1:09 a.m.): Just a heads up. Those customers from second party want to complain and get a refund. I got the money though.

Agent (1:12 a.m.): I just got off the phone with them. they are a bunch of fucking cunts. get the hell out of there.

Agent (1:13 a.m.): perfect example why one should always collect the money up front. women like this. 

I had left the parking lot by the time I got his warning.

About twenty minutes later, Wendy called me. I sent the call to voice mail. She called again. I sent it to voice mail again.

When she called a third time, I answered the call with the readiness to hang up on her. In a calm voice, she told me that my "manager" had told her to "go fuck yourself" and hung up on her. She asked if I could give her the number to his boss or supervisor so she could get a refund.

I told her that he was the boss and supervisor.

"Who do I go to get a refund then?" she asked.

I found it amusing that she wanted my help now even though she told me that I "fuckin' sucked" earlier. Still, I decided to help point her in the right direction.

"You call the guy who told you to "go fuck yourself" and ask him for the refund," I said.

That was not the answer she wanted, but before I could listen to anything else, I drove through a very rural part of Alabama and my phone reception died. It came back shortly, but I was not going to call Wendy back. I didn't need anything from her. She apparently needed something from me.

She called me five minutes later. I answered the phone out of morbid curiosity.

She suggested that I refund her $125, which was half of the cash amount she gave me. I had no desire to do this, however, because I owed my agent that exact amount for his commission. That meant I would have given all of my earnings from the show, not to mention the gas money I spent to drive there.

I politely explained this to Wendy, even though deep down I knew that reasoning with her was futile.

Unsurprisingly, Wendy disregarded everything I said and asked for the $125 again. She begged for it, even sounding nice for a minute, but I had not forgotten the rude comments that she and her friends made about me while I was at the party. Furthermore, they locked me out of the condo and shunned me like a leper, and now they wanted me to do them a favor by driving back so I could give them some money. Fuck that.

When I told Wendy that I would not drive back to her location to give her a refund, she changed her tone and outlined all of the mistakes I did. She said that I was late, then I forgot my music, and I didn't put on a good show and only danced for twelve minutes.

"You wanted me out of place after twelve minutes, remember? Now you're complaining I left early?"

Once again, she asked for the refund. I told her that she needed to talk to my agent. Unfortunately for her, she pissed off my agent to the point of no return, so she knew that I was her only chance left at getting a refund.

She decided to try a different tactic.

"Listen, my four-year-old can put on a better show than you can," she said. "So you need to give me a fucking refund or I'm going to go online and write a lot of bad reviews on you and your company to where no one will hire you anymore. So you need to come back and give me that refund."

Her sense of entitlement fascinated me. Only a tyrannical dictator can rival such rancid diplomacy by resorting to threats, insults, and demands to get something.

If Wendy and her friends had been kind and polite to me the entire time, then I would been more inclined to help them out. Yet, Wendy continued to insult me and explained how much I sucked as a male stripper. She was on speaker phone, allowing me to hear her friends voice their insults in the background. 

Losing patience, I fired back to her that I had a party earlier that night where the girls loved me and had a great time. I also told her that I had done hundreds upon hundreds of parties that end well, some customers even hiring me again. Then, I told her that her group was the worst crowd I ever had out of ten years of experience.

"So why couldn't you give us that kind of show?" Wendy demanded.

"Because you didn't want that kind of show," I said. "I can't give you a good show when you and your friends want to nitpick and complain. Y'all were negative from the beginning. Your attitude is what makes a show good-"

"So you're not going to give me my refund, even though you only worked for twelve minutes?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"That's fucked up!" she yelled. "You're a piece of shit! My four-year old son can entertain better than you can-"

I decided I had enough of her abuse. 

"Go fuck yourself!" I snarled and hung up the phone. Even though it was immature, I felt a bit of satisfaction giving her the same treatment that my agent gave her.

She did not call back.

I sent my agent another text message.

Me (1:37 a.m.): Another heads up. The women are trying to get ahold of the management. 

Agent: (1:41 a.m.): I know. I am ignoring there phone calls. no point in talking to them. drunk and angry women. not a good combo.


Ten years of stripping at hundreds of parties, and this was my first and only time that I had ever yelled at, even cursed at, a customer. Well, you can't please everyone...


______________________________
For more stories, check out Dion's book. 
Buy the e-book here:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MGRUEYM

Blog Booking

Friday, July 26th, 2013

Earlier this week, a reader of my blog contacted me asking if I wanted to work a bachelorette party in Perdido Key, Florida.

This was the first time someone booked me from my blog. I was very excited (and nervous) to meet a customer who read through my stories beforehand.

That was not the only unique aspect of this party. The whole event took place on a party bus with stripper poles. I had to dance while the bus was moving, which was quite difficult. I lost my balance and fell a few times. Nonetheless, it was a bachelorette party on wheels.

Overall, I had a blast, and I hope the customers did too. I'll ask the customer if she wants to do her own write-up of the incident.

Party Log: Sunday, July 7, 2013

Bride on right in the green dress.

_______________
Bachelorette Party

Sunday, July 7, 2013   9 p.m.

Seven Girls

Destin, Florida
_______________

These girls were male stripper virgins, meaning they never seen a male stripper before.

Jordan, the girl who hired me, seemed very nice and eager to have me show up. Over the phone, I walked her through the basics about how a typical male strip show functions, and she seemed agreeable to what I suggested. She requested that I wear a cop outfit even though the bride already knew I was coming.

The party took place at the Hilton in Destin, Florida. I told Jordan that I would have to change inside the hotel room because there was no way that I was walking through the hotel lobby in front of many people in a cop outfit. Since the bride knew I was coming, it was no big deal.

For being male stripper virgins, these girls went along my routine with heartwarming enthusiasm. Every girl participated except two girls, and even they were very friendly and nice to me.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened, but every girl was extremely respectful and kind. They tipped me well and gave me some cookie cake afterwards.

The girls wanted me to stay beyond my performance. We took a lot of pictures together and they asked me many questions about my profession. Unfortunately, I had another job to go to and was running late, so I had to leave. 

I thought about this party later and considered them to be the "ideal party" if there is such a thing in my occupation. The ideal party involves a mutual respect, kindness, and satisfaction between both the male stripper and the customers. Every girl displayed genuine contentment with me while I felt the same towards them.

I wish every show played out similar to this one.  
My only regret was that I could not stay longer for them. However, I did get pictures to share.