Aside from the top-tier single malt Whiskey that Terry specifically asked for, there was also vintage champagne, top-notch red wine from France, and even a few bottles of rare, antique-packaged, yellow-label aged cognac.
Beverages were chilling in several ice buckets, alongside a finely crafted box of Cuban cigars.
In one corner of the suite, a scantily-clad, elegantly poised Eastern European lady was adjusting an expensive sound system, while another was kneeling by the hookah, skillfully filling the delicate glass bowl with premium tobacco infused with honey and fruit spices.
Sweet-scented smoke curled up from the mouthpiece of the hookah.
"Sit, sit, my dear friend!"
Aziz enthusiastically beckoned Terry to take a seat on the thickly cushioned platform, "Start with sothing to whet your appetite? Freshly squeezed pogranate juice? Or perhaps our 'Desert Rose' can mix you sothing special?" He gestured towards the lady adjusting the sound system.
"Give sothing 'refreshing' first."
Terry pointed to the Whiskey in the ice bucket, though his eyes couldn't help but flicker towards the two ladies, their beauty and figures truly captivating.
Aziz chuckled knowingly, and personally picked up a bottle of Macallan specialty, pouring Terry a full glass of amber liquid, the ice clinking crisply against the glass.
"To our friendship! To you completing such a daunting task! And to... the wonderful night ahead!"
Aziz raised his glass.
"To friendship!"
Terry lifted his glass too, the rich aroma of peat and fruit bursting into his nostrils; he tilted his head back and took a large gulp, the fiery liquid sliding down his throat, instantly igniting his weary body and long-suppressed desires.
The nerves that had been tense for three days began to relax and crumble under the triple onslaught of alcohol, this lavish environnt, and the allure of the opposite sex.
The music shifted to an electronic mix with an ambiguous rhythm.
At Aziz's gesture, the Eastern European lady who was adjusting the sound system swayed gracefully over, sitting right next to Terry, bringing with her the captivating scent of exotic perfu.
The other lady lit the hookah, handing the delicate mouthpiece to Terry's lips. Food, wine, beautiful won, dazzling smoke...
The feast for the senses utterly overwheld Terry.
Aziz had an excellent sense of timing; he refrained from discussing any work-related topics, instead urging drinks, sharing tales and jokes from the local elite circles, bringing the atmosphere to a more relaxed state.
Terry drank one glass after another, the rich texture of the high-end Whiskey dulling his vigilance.
The sweet-scented smoke from the hookah made him feel slightly lightheaded.
The soft body and suggestive touches of the lady beside him further stirred his blood.
The accumulated pressure and fatigue of past days seed to find an outlet to explode.
Alcohol blurred the sense of ti.
Terry only rembered drinking copiously, laughing loudly, fraternizing with Aziz, and even dancing with those two ladies, their physical interactions growing increasingly bold and unrestrained.
Aziz's chubby smiling face fluctuated near and far in the dim lights and smoke.
Two hours later.
"...can't take it... Aziz... I'm done..."
Terry felt the world spinning, his tongue twisted, the scene before his eyes beginning to double.
"Haha, it seems our warrior needs rest!"
Aziz's voice seed to co from afar, with a laugh, "Don't worry, everything's arranged. The top-floor suite, the best room with a view, shall let you sleep like a Sultan." He waved his hand.
Terry felt himself being supported by two strong, silent attendants, his body as limp as a noodle.
He was groggily carried through a corridor of golden splendor, entering a quiet elevator.
The ascent of the elevator brought a slight weightless sensation that churned his stomach.
Unsure how long passed, he was led into a room, seemingly large, dim, with a faint, pleasant incense in the air.
He felt himself being placed onto a bed as soft as clouds.
Soone helped him remove his shoes and jacket.
Then, a warm body seed to snuggle up next to him, with the familiar perfu of the Eastern European lady who was adjusting the sound system in the suite earlier.
She seed to be whispering sothing, her voice alluring, fingers coolly tracing across his forehead.
Terry's final consciousness was of gripping a soft hand, before completely plunging into the abyss of darkness and alcoholic whirlpool.
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