~''MALLEUS AMICORUM-The Hammer Of The Ones Who Loved''~

CHAPTER 2nd:''Sacred Journey''

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uck5s156F4I&list=PLGVWAdsKpuG_gGf7k-_Dwj8dtcrG1_cGi

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A Month Before Christine's Dream

''It never happened before", ah?".

"Leave me be, Alexandra.''

"Your cock got old. Every chicken knows that. It's just nature."

The man behind the ginger woman gets off the bed, leaving her alone in a doggy position, angry that he doesn't make it again like he used to. Once, he would please her like a lion 'till she collapses and ''shuts the fuck up,'' but now it is proved to be nothing more than a simple kitten. "It's temporary. I just need to drink to calm my nerves" he snaps back and swigs his "omnipresent" wine. In her eyes, that wine was more than his closest friend-his only friend. The Slav woman's butt, like her entire body, was like a sculpture; her entire aura is like a sorceress, and her voice is like a siren's, ready to consume. It's not their first time, from any point of view. Their casual sex is something relatively constant and predictable. They have known each other for quite some time. It is his way of releasing his urges when the masturbation is useless and her way of releasing hers, along with the fact that he is keeping her and her younger sister safe inside the Shah's Harem, away from that pervert's clutches or anyone else's inside his court. And yet, one day just stops being a "man.''

"If I recall correctly, this is the third time", she says to him teasingly as she sits back on the sheets. "I hoped that this time, we would have some fun, but instead of a feast, we have one more famine", he sighs. The man snaps again, always with his back turned on her, as he's throwing away his linen sheath, putting on his black pants and a black silk robe. "You're not talking to a fossil, you idiot. Do you think I'm enjoying this?! It's not my fault I always work while you're lying on your puffy chaise longue, eating your shiny, round grapes. As I said, it's temporary. Take it or leave it."

Alexandra sighs again. "You all men are the same...always giving cheap excuses."

"Then give me your justification as a "responsible woman" he groans back under his breath.

"That woman's portrait, perhaps."

Abruptly, he turns to face her with a deep-rooted rage behind his eyes, which is so evident that even his white half-mask couldn't hide it, even though his whole face is always emotionless. He seems empty and hollow, like a shell, no matter what he does, enjoys, or endures. The only exception is his constant anger, imprinted on his facial features, even in the absolute stillness. And now is one of the times that's so striking and possibly dangerous, like fire. "Don't you dare mention that subject again? I'm not your "hubby", so it's none of your business". "And why is that?" she asks matter-of-factly. "Your room has been full of her sketches since the last time I came for our ''rendez-vous'', and every time I ask for her name, or what she means to you, you choose to play coy, not to mention that is more than rude that you're fucking me at the same time, inside that "shrine" huffing out her deep puzzlement "Erik, you're being ridiculous.''

"I'm not the "ridiculous one" Alexandra", shouting at her. "I had told you before that it's none of your business. We're not exclusive; therefore, she can be whoever and whatever I want her to be!" unaware that he's touching one of the sketches protectively, unconsciously considering anyone but him as a threat.

"You think that I suddenly became jealous, are you? No, you're not my "hubby", and I'm not your "wifey"; I never asked such a thing. I give you my anus, and you give me and my sister protection from being abused by the pricks of this royal court. But we're still human beings, man, we care. And despite you being rude and cruel because you're so attached to that other kind of mask, I still owe you that.''