"Yes, yes," he murmured, "I am in the hands of the brigands of whom Albert de Morcerf spoke." His first idea was to breathe, that he might know whethe... he was wounded. He borrowed this from "Don Quixote," the only book he had ever read, but which he still slightly remembered."No," he cried, "they have not wounded, but perhaps they have robbed me!" and he thrust his hands into his pockets. They were untouched; the hundred louis he had reserved for his journey from Rome to Venice were in his. Locking the door to his room, I went back to the bathroom with a wash rag and some towels. I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. Fog filled the bathroom making it humid and steamy. While I was absent, Steve had pulled off his shirt and pajama bottoms and was sitting there in his loose boxers, which by the way, revealed his semi erect cock. I pretended not to notice his aroused state, as I was all business-like on the outside, but holy hell, I wanted nothing more than to fall. More

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