An image of a member’s member (in a glass of wine) is sent to his lover. When the loving is gone Peter Dowling’s transmission of the image (though, mercifully, not the image) is shared with the world.
Gliberty has heartlessly suggested that she who consents to the making of a sex tape deserves the embarrassment caused by release. So too with Anthony’s weiner and Peter’s dowel. But if you don’t want to be embarrassed, don’t send a pic of your dick.
On a kinder note, Peter Dowling has a face a dog wouldn’t lick. Gliberty likes to imagine that when the public humiliation is over and he’s sitting alone in his serviced apartment looking through the employment pages, he might allow himself to be warmed by the memory of all the action he got.
Hell, he may even decide to celebrate by dunking his balls in a decent brandy.
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