BF Confused Y His Lover Is Late At Messaging - Not Indian

I had left Maygold six days after my call with Scott so there was no time to get one, it was one of the things on the top of my to-do list. This meant a slower route through passport control and customs. Eventually though, tired and bedraggled, I emerged through the doors into the main Airport. I was greeted by the usual arrival lounge chaos of loved ones hugging and drivers holding up names. I scanned the crowd looking for Scott. Then I saw him waving like mad from the back near the exit. When. Instead, he got to enter by a poorly lit door hidden by the landscaping maintained by the gardeners of the Council. The door opened up into a long, winding stairway that led several dozen feet beneath the Palace. These halls, unlike the ones above, were made of granite and were completely unadorned by tapestries or paintings or intricate carvings. The doors were plain, sturdy diamond oak wrapped with steel, unlike the carven masterpieces made of snow teak and black cherry in the halls of power. It was a small room, about ten feet on a side. There were four showerheads on one wall, and a row of benches on the opposite side of the room, providing a place to put down your towel away from the spray. No one was in the room. I thought to myself, "This might be interesting."I chose a locker a few feet away, then grabbed my towel and stuff, and headed into the shower. My father wasn't an officer, but I felt that I could easily explain away my presence if asked. "I'm a kid, and the big shower. I put my short blue summer robe on, wearing nothing underneath. I rolled my two favorite dildos up in my bath towel, and headed for George’s room. My heart was thumping loudly as I tapped three times. The door opened immediately, and George appeared, drink in hand, wearing a white robe. He stepped aside, and I walked in. He closed his door quickly, and I felt safe, in a way. I couldn’t yet sense what George’s reaction would be to my letter. “So, it’s you,” he said, frowning with.
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