‘Come on,’ he said, holding out his hand for me to take. I took it and he hauled me to my feet. He dragged me out the door. ‘Where are you takin... me, Mr MacIntyre?’ I said, cheekily referring to him by his surname. He raised his eyebrows and tapped his nose – a secret. He produced a blindfold and wrapped it around my eyes. I brushed it with my fingers and he batted my hands away playfully. ‘Ah-ah! No touching!’ he chastised. I let my hands fall and he took them again, guiding me. After a short. I had her totally naked (except for her heels of course) as the doors slid open. A girl of about 22 , done up to go out clubbing herself gave us a shocked look as Lily led me off of the elevator, a purse in one hand and a cock in the other as we stepped down the hall and she finally opened the door to the apt. I slammed it shut behind her and pushed her back onto an expensive looking couch made of Corinthian leather.The apartment was completely magnificent, huge flatscreen TV in the living. His day lay ahead of him, full of possibilities. He could join Alfie at the golf course. He could head to the gym. He could call up his sister and take her kids out for the day. He could call his lawyer, find out if Marie had finally signed the divorce papers. None of it really excited him. He felt restless . Shes not coming. Shes not coming. Shes way too classy for this kind of thing. Coming here would mean commitment. It would mean we were accepting that something had happened between us.. He chuckled at the irony of that particular piece of Ovid coming to mind at this time. He was more used to quoting the 'dirty bits'. The doubtful benefits of a classical education. Reaching for the whisky, he reflected how his life was full of little ironies these days. It wasn't just a case of another marriage going sour; it was the timing of it.At the very moment he believed he had finally arrived, climbed to the top of that greasy pole, the ceiling fell in. First the promotion, then the.
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