He was a younger version of the waiter, obviously his son. The scene sent Steve’s mind racing back, He remembered the older children of the taverna’s waiters were allowed, or even encouraged, to help at the tables, performing minor tasks such as clearing used plates or delivering the bill. Astonishingly the ten year old looked so familiar. Was it possible the waiter was one of those boys all those years ago? When Steve mentioned this to the waiter, the man looked at him carefully and stated it was possible! As Steve was sipping his wine, he noticed the waiter speaking to an older man, the younger one held what appeared to be a small card and he was pointing in Steve’s direction. The other man approached and spoke ‘Signomi…excuse me, I am Milos. My son, Dimitri, was correct. Look!’ He held the card out, it was a photo, the Polaroid kind. Steve was amazed as he immediately recognized it as himself and his mother at the very same table. Obviously it had been one of those occasions. Then his wife donned a matching lacy purple night, just before the doorbell rang. Steve swallowed as he could hear heavier footsteps coming down the hall and towards the bedroom, his cock twitching in anticipation. Then, upon seeing the petite ivory white body of his lovely wife in the arms of his muscular black buddy, Steve's cock was rock solid and threatening to bust right out of his pants. Seeing Jill being gently laid upon the bed, Steve wondered 'Isn't she going to put up any resistance? Is she going to make him put on one of my condoms?' Sure, he had been an observer the first time around but Steve thought that Jill would at least be apprehensive in continuing to cheat on him, especially since they had been married less than a year. But as Mike crawled up onto the bed, there was no apprehension on Jill's part at all, not in the way she leaned up to kiss him passionately with her lips wide open. It was obvious that they were French kissing, with tongues teasing each other. Cock.
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