We walked in to separate cubicals which were just partions bolted to the wall and no doors, still talking to my friend I pulled my towel off and start...ed to dry myself.As I was drying myself and chatting to Mark I popped my head around the partion to ask him a question. He was drying himself with his back to me one leg up on the seat,I could see his balls swinging as he dried his leg,his ass was in full view,Im not gay but this view started me getting a hard on I watched him as he swapped legs. . I need to help you.She gave me a weak smile and continued to examine the ceiling with her good eye."Could you please bring me a glass of water?" she said.I stood up and hurried toward the kitchen. When I got back, I put the glass on a low table and sat beside her. Her body felt limp and surprisingly tender in my arms as I lifted her into sitting position. Supporting her back, I brought the glass to her lips. She moistened them, and glanced at me. I waited as she sipped some more water, then. Ok, fuck it. I was drunk enough and horney enough that this wasn't a bad thing in my mind. However, being so drunk and horney was a bad thing because my inhibitions were almost gone. And the fact that I had just ground my ass into so many people's dicks and pussies had me feeling like I was the hottest piece of ass ever. It was actually too the point that when I realized that the main light in the room was working like a spot light an idea struck me. It struck me stupid. Stupid because. Phileas Fogg’s name was once more at a premium on ‘Change. His five friends of the Reform Club passed these three days in a state of feverish suspense. Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had forgotten, reappear before their eyes! Where was he at this moment? The 17th of December, the day of James Strand’s arrest, was the seventy-sixth since Phileas Fogg’s departure, and no news of him had been received. Was he dead? Had he abandoned the effort, or was he continuing his journey along the route agreed.