We walked out flushed, and we never spoke of it to each other again. Since then we married different people, but we remained close because she is also... best friends with my wife now, and our families often entertain together. It was Labor Day weekend 2009, 11 years later, that I got my chance. It was Sunday. I was home alone watching some old games on ESPN classic. The kids were staying with my brother the whole weekend to spend time with their cousins, as they had no school on Monday. My wife. On Saturday evening around 7 pm, I was at his flat door, rang the doorbell and Raman opened the door thanked me for coming and allowed me inside and shut the door. I had brought a bottle of the Blue Label and gave it to him for which he said, “Why did you bother to bring it, my bar counter is full. Thanks anyway.”We both sat on the sofa and Raman poured us both the Blue Label and we were enjoying our first sip. Raman’s wife came towards us holding a tray with chips and some chicken fried stuff.. But he'd been a little leery of Gimli and Legolas. Afterall, Gimli was like a blind date. Taller than the average Hobbit, butthat knee length beard really burned Frodo's chops. After all, whatwoman wants to kiss some fucker that can kep you warm just with hisfacial hair?And the fucking elf! Six fucking feet tall, no beard, but hair on hishead down to his ass. Shit, most of the women Frodo knew didn't havehair that long! And of course every fucking elf thought anyone whowasn't and elf was some. I felt like a lover, not like a whore as he held the door open for me to enter the room ahead of him. But in my heart I knew I was a whore; I had no moral feelings about allowing anyone to explore my inner body, caring only that the Reverend Michael, my beloved husband, didn't catch me. And I didn't even know why I cared. Did I really love Michael? I didn't stay with him for the money; my parents had left more than I would ever need. Even Granny would accept my leaving him, if only after lots.