We were eight degrees south of the equator. Thirty degrees celsius. It felt like it was very early. Too early to reconstruct my evening. My tired body... insisted it was the middle of the night, even as the brightness of a new day probed at my eyelids. I was still a sleepy mush.I groaned and turned my head to face the wall, splaying my fingers wider under the pillow. The mattress was thin and lumpy. I turned on my side for a few minutes. Hotter. Sweatier. My thighs stuck together. My upper arms. .." Good girl, now finish your drink and we'll go back up stairs." he smiled softly after saying this.she looks away again, quickly finishing her drink "Fine.. Where's my room? Or do I get to sleep on a couch?"He sighs "There's only one bed, and we have to share, there is no couch, and the chair I was in earlier isn't meant for long rests, only short naps."She nods softly "At least tell me I get my own blanket??" You do, but it'll be getting on toward winter on this planet soon, and we've no. In an instant I'm back in my parents garden, the scent of roses my mother held for me to sniff, their soft, velvety petals brushing my nose and cheek transporting me there in a flash; and I know she is behind me, her perfume so sweet and heady it almost masks her natural musky odour, almost but not quite, the two combining in a wonderful way that robs me of my ability to concentrate.I read and re-read the same line over and over but the words don't form a coherent whole in my mind, each one an. He quickly, politely, shook my hand as we met but turned his back to me as he gave my wife a friendly hug and a passionate kiss on the lips. He and Sherri sat at the table and quickly set up conversation as though they had been friends all along and had just been apart over the weekend. As they reminisced about their college days and common friends, I was having a hard time thinking about anything other than this man was about to fuck my wife. Clearly, that began to weigh on their minds as.