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If today were a normal day, I would ask Erik for one of his potions, but today is far from normal and I dare not. I shudder to think of what type of concoction Erik might mix for me in his present state. Ah well, perhaps we should attempt to drown our sorrows and we can allow tomorrow to take care of itself." Erik, can I offer you a drink; a whiskey, perhaps?"The man stopped his pacing for a moment and stared at the younger man, then sighed."No, Raoul, no whiskey. You know I care very little for the taste of strong spirits. However, I can see the allure of their sedative effects on the mind. Hmmm ... perhaps ... do you have ice and blood oranges?"Raoul suppressed the smirk that fought to quirk the corners of his mouth at Erik's odd request. After their long years of friendship, Raoul had become used to the sudden, seemingly unrelated shifts in the topic of conversation by his friend. His curiosity aroused at this latest turn, he responded."Of course, we have ice. The blood oranges,. .."My confession was working on Victor too; his cock was hardening against my thigh as he gripped my boob tightly and fondled my clit with his finger... "I was getting wet thinking about his hardening dick. I wanted to see it, to touch it, to suck it, but that nice guy wasn't making any advances."Then I gripped Victor’s cock and squeezed it just below its bulbous head. "My husband is busy at his office and I need some cock right now…”I told Ronnie, walking over to him, pulling up my skirt and grabbing his head to bury it in my already wet crotch..."Then Victor’s finger slipped down to the crack of my ass, making me shiver. Suddenly his finger finally found my asshole and he circled it gently. That made me purr like an innocent cat and I shoved against him, clamping his thigh between mine."Well, that young man fucked me. I dragged him upstairs to our bedroom”"You brought him up here to our marital bed?”"Yes, my love. Right here in our bed. I pushed him down, unzipped his fly and pulled.
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We arranged to meet again—a new restaurant, some place she suggested. I never kept logs of our chats, and I don't remember it anymore. I'd never been there before, and we never went back. It was close to The Hotel, however."The Hotel" was where we met at first—that's how we called it, just "The Hotel." It was an old place, decayed enough to rent rooms for a couple hours, no questions asked or even glances at us, unlike the one we spent our first afternoon together. I had seen it before, often passing in front of it. Any big city has places like that.I met Athena at the bar of Antonio's, that second time, and we had a drink. The conversation was strange, difficult, that day. "Let's go," I said, leaving money over the counter—like in the movies, yes; waiting for the bill would have destroyed my sudden resolution. She didn't say yes or no, just following me.A few blocks later we were at The Hotel. I used another name—not Marquis, like before at the first hotel, and not my real name. Two.

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