The stage lights became brighter—or was the light coming from the actor himself? The play began. Milf sex Last night, in the near-dark, she’d practically glowed. That’s right, they’d stopped for a drink at that new wine bar downtown. The chorus seemed agitated being so close to him, twitching and lolling. Tlazolteotl is back in town, and you can imagine the trouble it’s causing. He was afraid her pale skin would bruise, but she turned out to be more resilient than he’d have guessed. Andrew almost swallowed his tongue. It could wait until the time came. She flopped over on the bed. All clear: No bites, no scratches, no hickies. “I’ve come to cry out in glorious celebration of the great god.”
A woman in the audience whispered, “Is this…is this how it’s supposed to go?”
“I have no idea,” said Andrew. Tell me they’re not good for each other.”
Hathor considered the couple. Hug? “Jesus, he’s drunk.”
“You don‘t know the half of it.”
“I never really understood the phrase ‘stinking drunk’ until now,” said the stage manager.
