The hour was twilight on an old cobblestone street somewhere on the outskirts of Paris. Though old, businesses still thrived and shopkeepers signs could be seen wobbling ever so gently in the breeze by the old chains that promised to support them for years to come.
There were a few stragglers, last-minute shoppers, and brave tourists still wandering about, but not many. This was a peculiar night with a feeling that accompanied it akin to someone looking through your curtains just as you finish lovemaking. Sex, as it was, was in the air.
A man was walking down the road. A man with good hair, a beard, and a cane. He had a fine face and a good build—-his boots hardly making a sound on the cobblestone.
Beside him was a young woman, fair-haired in heels which made her barely as tall as her suitor and a soft pink dress that opened at the sides, revealing a hint of breast and a bare hip. It had a small gold chain from the V in her front, going around her neck, and back down. The chain itself disappeared near the top of the swell of her bosom.
The two of them stopped just outside a closed cafe. The patio partitioned inward, taking some space from the building, but providing more privacy for their customers. The furniture was iron metal meshwork. The man pulled out the chair for his companion.
Another man was seated there as well, flipping through a travel brochure, his phone the only illumination in the dark area. Feeling self-conscious he turned it off and took a glance at the couple. They were both staring at him.
He turned his attention back to the brochure when the man cleared his throat. The traveler looked back up.
"Come join us, good fellow, it would make my date more comfortable," he said. The traveler shrugged, for he was about to leave himself, but the prospect of conversation was much more interesting.
The woman smiled sweetly at him and he could smell alcohol coming faintly from her. She held out her hand like he might inspect her knuckles and he grasped it gently and kissed it, looking at the man to her right who nodded.
"What brings you to Brost, my friend?" asked the gentleman.
"I raise chickens, and Brost is known to have bred the fattest chickens known to man. I'm hoping to learn from the breeder," said the traveler.
"Fascinating, don't you think love?" he asked the woman. She nodded shyly. "You'll have to forgive Brunhilda here, she's had too much to drink this evening. My fault I suppose, but I couldn't help it. She's so desirable after a few drinks, but she talks too much, so I've given her a little something for that too. Now she is the perfect woman!" he said and laughed. His hand went to the chain at her throat and he lifted it up a smidge. She shifted in her seat, heat flushing to her cheeks.
The traveler felt like he was peeking through a window, watching them interact, and found his own endowments tingling at the whoosh of air Brunhilda made when the man let go of the chain.
"And what about you, sir?" asked the traveler, hoping the lust he was holding would not strain his voice. The answer would determine whether he left or stayed.
"Yes, we've just been to a local voyeurism meeting. The gents and I couldn't get into the technology. Besides, we believe watching any performance is best done live, eh love?" Brunhilda nodded shyly.
The stranger shifted, his dick suddenly awake by the man's words. Had they really come back from watching live sex? He loved this town more every day.
"Look at the light in his eyes, Brunhilda, he's interested," the man laughed will jolly vigor, he too, it appeared, had been drinking. "What's your name old chap?" asked the man.
"Steve," said the traveler.
"Marco," said the gentleman and they shook hands.
"Now, Steve, you seem like a fit fellow, eager to participate in the underground. Would you be interested in coming to a meeting?" asked Marco.
"Well, sure," said Steve uncertain, unwilling to believe that anything in life could be that easy.
