Altair awoke like a buttered hotdog, sandwiched between Tasha and Morigan. The thick scent of pungent wine he'd had in celebration still lingered on his breath. Be it Tasha or Morrigan, both of them were somehow bare, clinging to his left and right.
'Heavens…' he thought, as his mind trailed off at the soothing heat their bodies generated. Who needed a blanket when you had two baddies? He smiled, noticing that he still wore a tunic, but his lower half was bare, and his manhood spearing the Heavens. He sighed, unsure what happened last night.
"What a day!" Altair freed himself to stretch his limbs, which felt stagnant from the wine. He'd been unsure what he drank but, for the first time, felt nauseous. His head was spinning with an ache that made him want to lay down.
