To Italy

The glass didn't last long. Nor the second.

Ethan felt flushed, the last few years of not drinking really catching up with him. Layla’s cheeks were red, certainly, but Ethan could tell she was not quite as far gone as him. ‘Must be all the extra body fat.’ He muses silently.

“Anyways,” Layla sighs, pouring the last of the bottle into their glasses, neither really coming up full. “You should try your best to steer clear of her. She might seem nice, but she’s quite the gossip.”

Layla had been going on at length about the various townsfolk. The topic started shortly after the toast, and she’d been running down a list of all the neighbors. Ethan hadn’t said much so far, interested in getting the local scoop.

“But you shouldn't be rude when avoiding her. Manners are very important.”

“Oh, I know.” Ethan sips his drink. “I learned all about manners in this house.”

Layla smiles and nods. “I can imagine. Your Grandparents were quite courteous.” She sips her own drink, her glass nearing empty. “And you were quite the handful.”

{if Layla's Secret =true} ‘You’re quite the handful. Two even.’ Ethan thinks, intrusive thoughts poking his brain.{endif}“I don’t think I was that bad…”

Layla laughs a little too hard, her shoulder rapidly bouncing, which causes a chain reaction down her chest Ethan can’t help but gawk at. “You had your moments… But all little boys do…”

Ethan takes another sip, his glass nearing its end. “Well, good thing I’m not little anymore.” The words come off in a way he didn't intend, the wine twisting the emphasis in a few places.

“Here, here,” Layla raises her glass, then sips down the last of her drink.

Ethan follows suit, and with that finishes the bottle.

“Well.” Layla sighs, leaning back on the couch, her posture making her already busty figure seem to pop more. “Another?”

“Glass?” Ethan looks at the empty bottle in front of them.

“Bottle.” Layla pulls herself up, grunting slightly. “One is never enough.”

Ethan doesn't really agree, but he’s not a wine expert. “I don’t have any…”

“Oh, I’ll get it.” She pulls herself off the couch, flatting out her skirt as she stands. “I’ll just pop over and grab another. I won’t be five minutes. Okay?”

Blinking, Ethan thinks about this for a moment.

The wine was definitely getting to his head. He could barely keep his eyes off of her when sober, but now? {if Peeped =True} Plus it didn't help what he saw the other night. He couldn't help it, but he kept picturing her naked, the sight of her playing with herself dominating his mind.{endif}{if Gay =1} Even considering… Ethan swallowed hard. Her cock was never far from his thoughts.{endif}

If he did this, he didn't know what would happen next.