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They must be horses or camels that I had heard about. They were pulling large sleds with wheels. Dust rose about them as they headed down a track in the rockier land where these sand dunes ended.“So many people,” Lasla whispered. She pressed tighter against me, her body barely clad in anything. While these humans covered everything in clothes made of linen or cotton or silk. All those fabrics our mothers would casually mention but had no real context in my mind.I swallowed. Part of me wanted to be intimidated by the river of people flowing in and out, but I couldn't be. I had to be strong. For Lasla. Even Pyrriah looked apprehensive. She stood on the other side of me, her right arm reaching across her stomach to grab her left above the elbow. She clutched herself, eyes wide.“I know,” said Mother. “I can smell the stink of them from here. Unwashed herder. Look.”A flock of animals being led by several men with long poles that curved into hooks at the end approached. A metallic clank. ” He had gotten my attention. I countered, “I want you to see how hot he gets me. Is that wrong?” His reply, “Not at all.” It was still snowing the next morning. I got up and looked out the window: our car was buried in a snowdrift. I came back to bed and both my men were half-awake. History repeated itself. I confess to the same feelings as yesterday, when Robert left the bathroom door open. I had the same sexual arousal as yesterday when Thomas returned to the bed, smelling fresh and horny. The only difference was that, somehow, our bedroom door was open. Anyone walking past would see exactly what was going on. Thomas pulled back the duvet. “You are hard already!” I was amazed. “Then do something about it.” I considered that an order I could not disobey. I imagined. My husband of two decade plus puttering around in the kitchen of a dacha/cabin in the mountains. He’d started a fire, coffee, gourmet breakfast. I flirted with a man of my husband’s choosing. Thomas was naked,.
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