Alfred quirked an eyebrow at her mention of a secret. When she told him, however, he stuck his tongue out at her in response. As if she knew what dying men wanted, from her wealth of experience on the subject. Alfred actually did know, both from his own personal experience and from being by the side of dozens of men facing certain death in the wilderness. The sort of existential dread that settled in required a bit more than a mindless orgasm to remedy.
Saying anything to that effect would either depress them both or lead her to make fun of him again, and neither sounded desirable at the moment, so instead he leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink again.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Smith," he teased. His glass was empty again (that had happened quickly), and he tipped the empty glass at her. "Another? Or do you have anywhere else to be?"
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER
Saying anything to that effect would either depress them both or lead her to make fun of him again, and neither sounded desirable at the moment, so instead he leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink again.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Smith," he teased. His glass was empty again (that had happened quickly), and he tipped the empty glass at her. "Another? Or do you have anywhere else to be?"
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER