Laura excused herself to get dressed. When she returned her face was still pale but dry. She was wearing shorts and a sleeveless blouse, both white an... loose fitting, with white sneakers and socks. Without peeking, I knew that her panties and bra were plain and white also. She wanted to be held again.We stood at the kitchen counter and ate an overcooked bacon omelet with toast and coffee. I apologized for my cooking. Laura laughed and said it was fine, she was not very hungry. She wanted to. I look around and try to spot an easy prey among the hundreds of bodies either sitting around tables or leaning against the walls. A few promising young things smile at me and I smile back.“Hi, what’s your name?” says a sluggish voice next to me.I slowly turn my head and within seconds I have evaluated the man standing next to me. He is drunk, sweaty, in his sixties, wedding band and cheap aftershave, not my style.“I am waiting for someone, please move along,” I say in a sweet voice.His. More

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