He held my gaze for a long time.“Ready?”“Absolutely,” I confirmed a little sleepily.I closed my eyes I listened to the sound of him stirring t...e olive oil in its ceramic bowl. The sound was reassuring, soft and strong. Almost holy in its susurration.He started applying the sun-warmed oil at the top of my mound with a heavy brush in short, even strokes. Then down the crease between my thighs, left and then right. One heavy stroke from the base of my still-throbbing cock, nearly sending me over. When Ripley wasn't looking I dumped out my drink, made myself a fresh one and then circulated. As I walked around and talked to the remaining guests I thought I saw several of them watching me out of the corner of their eyes, almost as if they were waiting for something to happen. I was working blind; I had no way of knowing if what Ripley had put in my drink was supposed to knock me out or do something else. Was it fast acting, or did it take a while? I couldn't see where anything other than. More

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