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”“Mmh,” he grunted. “Finish that beer. The hot water’s probably got to build back up anyway.”We sat down in the kitchen. The towel was wet and I thought the chairs in there would be cooler than the couch. I pulled a chair out and sat with one foot under me, making sure my thighs were spread as much as the towel would allow. With a little discreet adjustment, my dick and balls rested on my ankle and the towel was loosened just enough. I wanted to make sure I always gave Blaise a show, even knowing that I was about to give him more of a show than ever before.He poured himself some iced tea and sat across from me blatantly staring at the towel and its contents. His hand rested on the arm I had on the table. We talked about various things, something he’d seen on TV the night before or something.“The water should be good now,” he said at some point. “If you’re ready.”“Let’s go,” I said, leaving my empty bottle on the kitchen table.By the time we got to the bathroom my towel had come off. It had been an almost sexless marriage, completely frustrating, starting with high hopes and an emotion mistaken for love, and ending in acrimony and divorce. Best forgotten. He moved on to the next stage of his life, the devastation of his entire being as he sought meaning from life after losing all those who mattered to him. He thought of the friend he made, alcohol, and how he could lose himself in his friend’s company, meaning he didn’t have to face life alone, didn’t have to face a loveless, joyless existence, didn’t have to face his loneliness, his loss, his failure, himself. In his mind he moved to his savior, Sylvie. Every person on earth has someone who is there for them. Often they are a person who will challenge them, maybe even a person they consider a competitor or an enemy. Yet always that person is there for them. Sylvie was that person for him. Was it just coincidence that she and he were both at the same hostel? Was it just coincidence that she asked him to teach her.
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