Persephone in Winter - Chapter 9/11 - Sex Stories

Persephone in Winter - Chapter 9/11

... and he fumbled in the dark to find an exit. Once found, the door opened easily in his hand, almost as if it had been expecting him. The lobby was deserted. Scarlet padded benches lined its perimeter, only a short while ago laden with guests in all their finery. Now they were empty. A large chandelier burned brightly overhead, each of the hundreds of pieces of sparkling crystal hanging silently as though frozen in time. To the left and right, two wide curving stairways led to the balcony and restrooms. He climbed the stairs on the right, eager to find his wife, but fearing what may lie ahead. The carpet accepted each footstep, collapsing just enough under his weight, then rebounding, as if impatient to send him on his way. At the top of the stairs, an empty foyer greeted him, silent as a tomb. After pacing in front of the ladies room, he entered cautiously, glanced quickly left and right, only to find it empty. After a hasty retreat, he crossed to the men's room and entered. "Good evening, sir." The tuxedoed man standing a mere two feet to his right stood straight and still as a statue. His face was pale and as translucent as tissue paper, and as Steven met his stare, he recognized the same blank, unblinking eyes as the guests downstairs. "I - uh - I'm looking for my wife." "In the men's room, sir?" "No - I mean - well, she left her seat twenty minutes ago, to go to the ladies room." "Ah, the ladies room is outside, to the right, sir. I suggest you wait for her there." "But, ...

... I have, and she's - well, she's not there." The man's eyes narrowed, as though trying to peer through Steven. "Is your wife prone to straying, if I may be so bold, sir?" "Straying? I - no, no she isn't." "Well, many women are. My own wife was a prime example. So unpredictable, so strong-willed, such - unquenchable desires." The man's expression relaxed, his eyes now those of a knowing confidant. "Look, have you seen her?" Steven asked finally. "Black dress, brown hair, very pretty..." "Ahh, yes. I do believe I have. But she couldn't be your wife, sir. She was..." He stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes now drifting upward as he seemed to savor the memory. "Why? Why couldn't she? What do you mean?" Steven asked in near panic. "I had a wife once, a very pretty one, much like yours, if I may say so, sir. She had tastes, for, well, certain things I couldn't provide. I returned to our home one day to find her enjoying a ride on a rather well-endowed young man in our own bed." The man stopped, looking at him expectantly. Steven, suddenly feeling the urgent need to relieve himself, turned away and stepped up to the nearest of the gleaming white urinals lining the long wall of deep scarlet. "She wouldn't admit it, at least not at first. They seldom do. But, to be very candid sir, men of size and savagery are what they dream of." As Steven emptied himself into the white porcelain, he shivered when he noticed the attendant sneak a glance at his exposed penis. "Men like us sir, civilized ...