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' I gasped, not expecting that reply. A rush of sexual tension washed over me like a wave as I went into a cubicle and slipped my panties down my legs. Once in my hand, I felt how damp they were and my eyes widened. I had to somehow get these into his pocket without anyone seeing, and I knew immediately he wouldn't make this easy. Opening the bathroom door I walked back down the corridor and into the ballroom, once at the bar I practically walked into Christian standing there. His eyes were lit up and he grinned at me mischievously, in his hands he carried a bottle of wine and two glasses.Carefully I pulled him into an embrace, and slyly pulled the thong from where I had stuffed them down the front of my dress. Christian's lips parted slightly as I kissed his cheek, slipping the panties into the inside pocket of his jacket. He coughed slightly and composed himself.I started to undo his shirt, fumbling with the buttons when his hands started to trace my breasts, his thumbs twirling. Setting the two grocery bags on the kitchen table I went upstairs to change out of my wet clothes. Pulling on an oversized tee shirt I stared out the window at the rain, all thoughts of putting on that little black dress with matching heels and going down to one of resort’s beach-front nightclubs forgotten.Trying to ignore my throbbing headache, I went back downstairs, lit the fireplace and putting away the groceries, opened a bottle of wine. Suddenly remembering the painkillers in my purse, I opened the prescription bottle and washed two of the pills down with half a glass of wine.Hours later, I’d just opened a second bottle of wine and was staring at my reflection the window, listening to the sound of the rain, as I considered my options. First, if I did chemo, in six months, I’d be lying in some hospice, likely in a d**gged induced c***, waiting to die. Or, if I refused the chemo, after a few months I’d still by lying in a hospice bed, in a d**gged induced c***, waiting to die..
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