Diplomat row. Political theater by day. Fuck-fest circus by night.
There were exactly three types of people still awake: the hidden, the horny, and the hammered. Guinevere was walking past all of them.
The air reeked of sweat, sex, and spilled ale.
To her left, a dice game had drawn a large crowd, gold changing hands like a game of hot potato. A topless woman was dancing on top of a warrior, shaking her breasts vigorously in his face.
To her right, a rider Guinevere recognized was spanking a moaning woman while she rode him reverse cowgirl with a second woman on her knees in front of them. Next to them, two naked women were riding a soldier. One was doing the actual riding, while the other was pressed behind, hands freely playing with her breasts.
Threesomes. Guinevere knew the concept. And now she had that visual burned in her retinas. Wonderful.
