There were six boys, and in the half-dark room Margot couldn’t make out their faces. But these boys didn’t need to prove anything about their sexuality—they already radiated such an incredible reserve of pheromones that Margot felt intoxicated.
“Lena, won’t there be anyone else from the girls here?” she asked.
“We’re two of us for the six?”
“Not sure,” her friend answered.
“Do you need anyone else?” the friend laughed. “Be glad that Kristinka is sick—then everything will be ours two.”
“And otherwise she’d definitely have shown up—always hovering after me.”
“And you always hold meetings with this group?” Margot asked as she sat down next to one of the boys and took the wine glass offered to her.
“No, depending on the mood,” her friend said businesslike, sitting down on the lap of one of the boys.
“Here it’s just closer—no need to run around floors. And in general, you can choose where you want to go. If you get bored of just taking part in ordinary orgies, then you should say so—we have special parties here.”