Reggiori's restaurant, King's Cross
Edmund Molloy, a journalist for The Daily Courier, has volunteered to join an expedition to South America to look for prehistoric creatures. Following a visit to expedition member Lord Hoxton's rooms, he has been engaged to draw his lady friend and her daughters. He is currently staying in an hotel with Edith, the wife of the expedition leader, Professor Challenor, with whom he is having an increasingly passionate affair.
“Would you mind, Edith, if I conducted an interview with you as regards your feelings regarding the Professor embarking on this expedition?” I asked her. It was eight in the morning and we had been kissing and gently caressing each other for some time. I just delighted in the feel of her soft, warm flesh. Something about sleeping, naked, together had transformed it into something muskily fragrant, warm and pliant. It was not the skin of the women I had first encountered fresh from the bath in her house but something offering tangible memories of passion, as if it had absorbed, like photographic film absorbs light, the essence of our passionate coupling the night before. “I am, of course, writing pieces about all the principal actors,” I continued, “but there is an insatiable interest in everything to do with the expedition and so those associated with the principals are of great interest to our readers as well. I intend to interview Mrs Somersby also,” I said.
“Presumably you will not be asking her questions while you both lie naked in bed, her mouth upon your cock!” she said, after pulling her lips from my knob, where she had been slowly and wetly gamahuching me.
“Indeed not. It would be very difficult for her to answer while applying her mouth to my manhood!” She prodded me in the stomach.
“I do not think that you will find Edna Somersby quite as accommodating as myself, Edmund! Although she is always fun! I will answer your questions but only if you are penetrating me at the same time and you only have as long as it takes for you to spend. So softly and gently this morning, I would suggest.” She lay down next to me on her back and I positioned myself on top of her, resting on my forearms. She guided me into her wetness. I pushed once and lodged comfortably inside her as deeply as I could.
“There! Lovely! I find this very comforting. Ask away, Mr Molloy!”
“Mrs Challenor,” I began, then paused. “I really need a Pitman’s stenographer to take notes!”
“Perhaps one of Lady Caroline’s daughters might serve, although I doubt if either could do shorthand. It would be amusing to have one of them sitting in that chair while you attend to me in this manner!"
“I am not sure whether amusing is the correct term.” I frowned, looking at my notebook on the bedside table, where I had been entertaining Edith by writing an account of our bathroom copulation the previous night; she adding her own recollections to ensure accuracy.
“It would be even more amusing to then watch you take her in turn!” added Edith.
“Really?” I asked, pausing in my gentle thrusting.
“Yes! I would love to watch you screw another woman!”
“But, aren’t we...” I began.
“We are not a we, Edmund. There is me and then there is you, whose role is to attend to me, sexually. If I decide I will get sexual pleasure from watching you with another woman then you will do as you are told!” she grinned and poked me in the side. “Like a good boy!” I told her of how Lady Caroline had asked me to invite her over to join myself, Lady Caroline and her daughters the previous evening. A detail I had omitted when giving my account the previous night.
“Oh! I would have gone, I think!”
“Really?” I asked.
“Oh yes, I rather think so. I would have sat behind you both and watched you penetrating her wet, pink parts, your lovely cock coated in her juices, your ballocks bouncing, the muscles in your buttocks flexing. Yes. I would have sat behind you, with my lags akimbo, frigging! I have never seen another couple do it. I would like to very much. It would be most arousing! Just the sight itself and the fact that they know you are watching. For it to be someone I have had myself would be doubly arousing!” she laughed.
“I just assumed...” I began, realising that her comments had aroused me into thrusting into her once more.
“Never assume anything as far as I am concerned, Edmund!” she said. “Now, your interview is not proceeding very well. While Lady Caroline’s ripe and juicy daughters are unlikely to be able to do shorthand I, however, can. Pass me your notebook and I will record our discussion while you pose your questions and take me at the same time! However, I do think it will be easier if you are underneath!" I rolled off her and grabbed my notebook, which I passed to her. I lay on my back and she sat astride my hips as I guided myself up into her wetness. She wriggled, impaled.
"There that is much better!" she said. She held up her notebook and sat, pencil poised, looking at me expectantly. She raised an eyebrow. "Shall we proceed, Mr Molloy?" I pulled my hips down and thrust up, forcefully.
"Oh!" she said and smiled. She began taking notes, as I asked her about her birthplace, her family and education. She had attended Somerville Hall, as it then was, in Oxford, I discovered, and she complained about the fact that it was not permitted for her study there to result in a degree. There was a small digression upon the matter of women’s emancipation. She said that she had met Professor Challenor in her early thirties, when she had started to despair of ever finding a husband.
“And did Professor Challenor take your virginity?” I asked, giving her a particularly forceful thrust.
“He did indeed, on our wedding night. He is quite a traditional man!” she said, rotating her hips gently. “Although I admit to being surprised that he asked me to lie on my front with my posterior in the air. Presented, as he put it. I had little concept of copulation but I did know enough to know that it was usually conducted face to face. I put his request down to the fact that he had spent a great deal of time studying great apes. I imagine that this little revelation is not going into your piece for the Courier?” She smiled at me over my notebook and I smiled back as I gave her three quick, hard thrusts.
“It is by way of researching character background,” I said. “It will go into my personal sexual journal!”
“How exciting! Oh! I will enjoy you reading aloud your other adventures to me in due course! Especially those concerning other women!”
“How exciting! Oh! I will enjoy you reading aloud your other adventures to me in due course! Especially those concerning other women!”
“And what would your personal sexual journal contain, Edith?
“Many exciting and arousing episodes, Edmund. I hope that you are not under the mistaken impression that you are the first young man I have fornicated with!”
“I am the young man who is fornicating with you now and that, for me, is more than enough!” I replied.
“The truth is that I like to have some physical companionship when George is away and, as I mentioned at the museum, I had lined you up for my entertainment for the ensuing months. Now you have completely ruined my plan by choosing to accompany him. You can have me for the remaining few weeks and then I will seek another; perhaps your friend William. He is a fine looking man!”
“So you say. I think he would be very amenable to such an arrangement,” I said, thinking that if it was inevitable that someone else was going to have her it might as well be my friend.
“You must arrange dinner with him before you go!” she said.
“You must arrange dinner with him before you go!” she said.
“I will do so!” I said. “Now put my notebook and pencil down as I am going to attend to you properly, Edith!”
“Please do so, Edmund!” she said. I grabbed her by the hips and threw her bodily onto her back. I climbed between her spread thighs and entered her, roughly, She clamped her legs around my hips. “As violently as you like!” I looked down at her lovely face and smiled at her.
“You are quite gorgeous!” I said.
“Completely gorgeous!” I said.
“I am quite aware of my charms, Edmund. I am not lacking in male admirers. Now, less talking and more screwing!” she said. I shook my head at her language but set too with vigour. We looked into each other’s eyes throughout as we became increasingly lost in our passions, enjoying almost simultaneous climaxes.
Shortly afterwards, Edith lay on her back with her hands behind her head and one knee lifted, her foot flat on the bed. I sat to one side, drawing her voluptuous form once more. “Did you mean that about watching me take another woman or were you just teasing me?” I asked, finishing my impression of the pale fluff under her arms.
“I meant it, certainly.”
“I am due to draw the ladies this afternoon...”
“I could come!” she said and laughed, dirtily.
“You could not because Lord Hoxton will be there and he is a member of your husband’s expedition as well!” I pointed out.
“Oh yes! How silly of me! Bugger! I’ll have to find another woman for you, Edmund!” she laughed. “Have you finished your drawing?” I had stopped sketching to examine it. It had something of the eighteenth century about it. Perhaps even something of Boucher. I was pleased.
“Indeed!" I showed her.
“That is a particularly fine one, Edmund. You are very skilled and not just in the carnal arts!”
“Those I am still learning Edith. I have a very good teacher!” I placed the drawing on the floor and regarded another blank sheet of paper.
“Time for one more quick sketch, Edmund and then you must be off to the Courier!” Edith parted her thighs and placed her hand on her mound. “I am going to frig myself and you will draw me!” And I did.
“Mrs Challenor will particularly miss the marital attention of her beloved husband during the long months he will be away!” read McCandless, in the office later that morning. “I can’t print that ,Molloy! What were you thinking, discussing such matters? Even if she was happy to discuss such a personal issue I am sure that if he read it in the Courier the Professor would contrive to throw you down another flight of steps! Myself too, probably. You do seem to be getting quite friendly with Mrs Challenor. Don’t think I didn’t see you sneak away down that darkened corridor in the museum after the Professor’s lecture. A dangerous game, laddie, a very dangerous game. Handsome, childless women of that age can lead a young man astray! Perhaps it is just as well that you are leaving London soon! Speaking of which, when the Professor gets back from Liverpool I want you to get all the details of the travel arrangements so we can arrange a big send off, Mayor of Liverpool, a band and such like!”
“Liverpool has a Lord Mayor,” I said.
“Even better! Get on to his office right away!”
“We have a meeting of the full party the day after tomorrow, to discuss the expedition. Lord Hoxton is arranging appropriate equipment and such and I am off to the Army and Navy store myself this afternoon!”
“Excellent! Keep up the good work, Molloy, but leave Mrs Challenor alone!"
“Well, I have completed my interview with her so there is no further need to see her!” I said, rather convincingly, I thought.
“What about that wee lassie who had you up all night the other day? What’s become of her?” asked McCandless.
“That lady was in the nature of a transient experience!” I said, thinking of Hoshimi’s perfect porcelain doll complexion.
“Well, I hope she was clean and you didn’t pay too much for her!” he said, gruffly.
“It wasn’t like that!” I said, even though it was.
“Nothing against it, Molloy. Back in India we all paid for our female company! You just have to be careful, mind!” he said. The thought of McCandless inflicting himself on some poor Indian whore did not engender very pleasant thoughts. He had been in the Gordon Highlanders in the Afghan War at the same time that Hoxton served.
“You know Challenor. He is a violent and aggressive man with a God-like belief in hisself. If you even look at his wife he will break every bone in your body!” said McCandless.
“I take your point, completely. I would not want that to happen at all!” I said, wishing he would drop the subject.
“Aye, well. Consider yerself warned!” he concluded.
I had agreed to meet Mrs Somersby for lunch at the Charing Cross Hotel and walked there down the Strand from the Courier’s offices. We had had no chance to speak at the lecture, as she had left immediately afterwards. She was a very different prospect from Edith but I warmed to her very quickly. She was down to earth, amusing and obviously fond of her food.
“Do you think it would be frightfully piggy of me to have a fish course between the soup and the lamb? she asked, as the waiter stood there, expectantly.
“The Courier is paying for everything, Mrs Somersby! Treat yourself!” She grinned like a naughty schoolgirl and ordered a Dover sole in addition to what she had ordered previously.
“Have you already interviewed Edith?” she asked. “Despite the rather theatrical tensions between our respective husbands the two of us have always got along splendidly!”
“Yes, indeed! I spoke to her this morning! A little more Moselle, Mrs Somersby?"
“Oh, alright, Mr Molloy!” I nodded at another waiter who went off for a second bottle. She had already demolished the best part of a bottle while eating both her and my bread rolls.
“German wine is very light, Mrs Somersby!” I said.
“Perfect for lunch times!” she laughed. “Please call me Edna! Edna and Edith! We sound like a rather naughty music hall act. Flashing our stockings and singing dubious songs. Edith would no doubt be quite happy strutting around on stage in her unmentionables, as I saw some of the ladies in Paris do when Leon took me there for a lecture he was giving. If I had a figure like hers I would do the same! She giggled. “In some of the theatres there the girls are practically naked I am told! How entertaining!”
“So I gather, although I have never been to Paris!” I said.
“You should go. Such wonderful galleries and the opera is divine! Pretty girls too! A handsome man like you would cause quite a fluttering of feminine Gallic hearts, I would imagine.”
“I’d love to visit the Louvre. I studied art myself!”
“Really. How marvellous! I would love to be able to draw! I am very interested in botany, although I do not have the benefit of an academic training like Edith. It would be lovely to be able to draw plants and flowers. Do you draw flowers Mr Molloy? Or are naked women more to your taste?” I nearly choked on my wine. “I see that they are!”
“I am interested in drawing many things! I am looking forward to drawing the wonders of Amazonia!” I said, trying to get the subject back onto the expedition.
“And has Edith modelled for you yet?” she asked.
“I am sorry? I don’t understand!” I said, wishing the waiter would return with the wine.
“Well, as she tells me, she likes to have a series of young men to, er, entertain her when George is away. I think poor George thinks more of his fossils than he does of his wife’s pleasure. I am very lucky with Leon. He is still a very virile man, despite being twenty years older than I am. We have five children and poor Edith has none. I think her first young man, who was American, was almost by way of seeing if the problem was down to her or, in fact, George. She seems to enjoy foreigners, although you aren’t really that foreign, being Irish.”
“I am really not sure what you are saying, Mrs Somersby!” I said but knew I was blushing.
“Ah! So you are Edith’s new paramour! Well she has always had good taste, apart from the single inexplicable choice of her husband! You won’t enjoy her for long as you will be off to the jungle, vainly looking for non-existent dinosaurs!" she smiled and then a look of revelation came over her face. "Oh, of course! You met her before the Challenor lecture did you not? George said you had been to his house and your offer for your newspaper to fund the expedition was a spontaneous one! Edith had obviously lined you up to be her companion while George was away. And now you have gone and spoiled it by going too! Poor Edith! She will need to find another young man to fulfill her abundant passions! No handsome young man in London will be safe!” She laughed as the waiter returned with the Moselle and another served the soup. “Ah, would you be able to bring us some more rolls, please?” she said to the waiter. “Don’t even try to deny it, Edmund!” So much for her being distracted.
“If what you said had even an element of veracity then it would be a most delicate matter!” I said, carefully, having tasted the wine.
“Do not worry! I will not mention it to anyone, of course! Even my husband!” She took a large mouthful of wine as soon as the waiter had poured it. “Oh my goodness! George is in Liverpool isn’t he? He telephoned Leon last night! Are you currently, then, engaged in passionate trysts with Edith! You said you saw her this morning! Does that mean that you were with her overnight?” I blushed even more.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t discuss your theorem any more!” I said.
“You were! What a naughty girl! So after lunch will you be going back to her house to ravish her?”
“She is not in her house!” I said.
“Not an hotel? Yes! How delightfully dubious! How entertainingly sordid! So as we have lunch she is probably lying on her back, naked, desperately awaiting your return!”
“Mrs Somersby, I think that...” I began, desperately trying to stem the flood of her fervent speculations.
“Oh, I know what she is like! Her level of passion is palpable. We have swum naked together on the Isle of Wight. Once we lay naked on the beach in the sun for some time and dozed and I opened my eyes to find her pleasuring herself quite openly. You do know that women do that, I suppose? perhaps she has demonstrated it for you." I blushed again and she grinned. When she saw that I had seen her she did not stop, as you might expect, but shamelessly continued until she reached her petit mort. I had never really indulged in that particular activity, as Leon was always there to satisfy me in that way but I admit that from then on I did have the occasional frig. I still do! You look shocked, Mr Molloy!”
“You are a very singular lady!” I said, carefully. These older ladies were most surprising! Who would have guessed, when first looking at Mrs Somersby. that she would openly discuss such matters? I looked around the restaurant to see if anyone might have heard us, as with every glass of wine her voice was getting slightly louder.
“You young men think we older ladies are dried out husks with no concept of passion and the joys of copulation. I am not dried out at all. I am still able to get quite moist and appropriately receptive!” I coughed on some crumbs of bread roll that got caught in my throat. Edna grinned. “Perhaps we should now discuss my thoughts on the expedition or your editor will wonder what on earth we spoke about over this expensive lunch. Frigging probably not being what he imagined! Well, as we are both having lamb later, perhaps we should look at the wine list for a suitable red!”
“Indeed!” I said.
After lunch, where she gave me some amusing background on the rivalry between the professors, I bid her goodbye. “Are you off to have Edith, now? I think I might make a nuisance of myself with Leon when I return home! I am somewhat aroused. We will never have been apart so long as for this forthcoming expedition. I will sorely miss his physical presence. Perhaps I should get an additional man myself, although I am not in possession of Edith’s charms!”
“You are charming in every way, Mrs Somersby, and any man would be lucky to have you as a companion, as is the Professor in having you as his wife!”
“You are very sweet!” she said, kissing me on the lips. She tasted of the Cognac she had had with her coffee. “Do give my regards to Edith, along with everything else you are giving her!” she said as she climbed, rather unsteadily, into a taxicab.
Women were proving to be far more complicated creatures than I had imagined. And it was a great surprise to me that older women continued to indulge in carnal activity. I had thought that it might be something they grew out of. I had a sudden and unpleasant vision of my parents. Surely not? Shuddering, involuntarily, I hefted my portfolio under my arm and proceeded towards Trafalgar Square, Haymarket and thence Piccadilly for my appointment with Lord Hoxton, hoping the walk would clear my head.
“Come in Molloy! The ladies are awaiting your attentions with great excitement!” said Hoxton, as I stepped into his study once more. Although the curtains were now open the room was not exactly bright. Albany was a rather dingy place.
“Ah, where are they?” I said, removing my coat. It was drizzling outside and the cold wet air had, indeed, sobered me up, during my short walk from Charing Cross.
“Through here!” he said indicating a doorway. I realised that it was the one where the ladies had emerged from yesterday. I entered and was presented with the sight of a large bedroom. The three women were sprawled on a giant bed, which had the look of the orient about it. It dominated the room.
“Hello Mr Molloy! We are all ready for you!” said Lady Caroline. All three were completely naked on the bed. Sarah, the youngest sister, had her legs apart and was brazenly displaying her sex. Her sister, Emily, knelt next to her, stroking Sarah’s shoulder while the mother stood up from the bed and approached me, kissing me on the lips.
“I am sorry I am late, ladies!” I said, trying to look at the sumptuous display of flesh in a neutral, objective manner. . “I was interviewing Mrs Somersby for my newspaper.”
“That is quie alright, Edmund! Y our work must come first. We have been resting after a fine lunch at the Cafe Royal!” said Lady Caroline.
“We have been caressing ourselves!” said Sarah, slipping her fingers between her pink petals, deep in her black-thatched mound.
“And each other!” added Emily, stroking one of her sister’s breasts while looking at me, as if to guauge my reaction.
“In fact, this little display by the girls neatly brings us to the subject of the first drawing I would like you to do,” said Hoxton.
“We will pose like this!” said Emily and sat up on the bed. Her sister sat next to her. They both spread their legs and Sarah put her right thigh over her sister’s left. I took a deep breath. The atmosphere of female arousal in the room was overpowering. The only way to deal with the situation was to remain professional and detached.
“Would you mind placing a chair just here Lord Hoxton, while I prepare my things, please?” He did as I asked and I took out a piece of cream coloured paper and some soft pencils. I sat down, holding my portfolio as an easel, as I had done with Edith. I set to work immediately, trying, and largely failing, to see these two ripe young bodies as an exercise in draughtsmanship and not a sexually provocative display. All hope of this disappeared after ten minutes when they moved their arms between each other’s legs and started to caress each other intimately. “Ladies, please, you must keep still and you must return to your original positions!” They did as they were told, somewhat sulkily, licking each other’s juices off their fingers before getting back into place.
“Good girls!” said their mother. “They do enjoy caressing each other, even though it may be seen as a rather unusual thing for two sisters to do!”
“Rather,” I agreed, calmly, without displaying my complete shock at their lascivious behaviour.
“I suppose it is my fault!”continued Lady Caroline. “I taught them how to frig properly several years ago. We all sat in front of a mirror and did it together. Of course I had to demonstrate on them myself the correct action, at some points.”
“Of course!” I agreed, drawing the pink parts emerging from Emily’s black curly bush. I had a thought and opened my pencil box. Inside were a number of Faber-Castell coloured pencils. I gently shaded Emily’s parts, nipples and lips in pink. It made the drawing much more lascivious in nature, which I thought Hoxton would appreciate. The finished drawing was much admired.
“I love the touch of pink on their important bits, Molloy. Brilliantly done!” said Hoxton. The girls stood behind me while I drew their mother, who Lord Hoxton positioned carefully on her stomach, propped across some pillows. She too had her legs spread and her sex and anus were clearly visible.
“Oh yes, do draw mummy’s shit hole!” said Sarah.
“Do try and watch your language, dear!” said her mother, slipping her middle finger inside her sex. “I am ready Mr Molloy!” she declared. I spent several hours drawing all three women, individually or in groups. They all happily acceded to my request to draw portraits of their intimate parts for my own collection. Hoxton remarking that it was a capital idea and might form the basis of an exhibition at the Babylon Exploration Society. My final drawing had them sprawled in a post coital looking heap on the bed, limbs entwined, wet sex’s wantonly displayed. I had got quite used to them pleasuring themselves in front of me during the afternoon. Perhaps the wine at lunch had me in a more mellow mood than usual.
“This is just excellent work, Molloy. I know a couple of people who would like to commission similar pictures. Could be a nice supplement to your income, what?”
“I would enjoy that, Lord Hoxton!” I said.
“Right. Shall we take a sister each and then have some tea? Don’t have much of a kitchen here but I can run to a cup of Darjeeling and slice of cook’s fruitcake. This room was originally the drawing room and my study was the dining room but I decided I only needed a bedroom and a study come drawing room. Don’t eat here. Always go out, dontchaknow?”
“I’d be happy to take tea with the sisters!” I said.
“Take ‘em first, though! Which one would you like? Sarah is only fifteen, of course, but I won’t tell if you won’t tell!”
“I’m sixteen next month! I know how to do everything, Mr Molloy! I won’t be a disappointment! I’m very juicy!” said Sarah, thrusting her hips forward and cupping her mound. "And I am very good at gamahuching!" She looked at my crotch, pointedly.
“On second thoughts, I think I ought to go!” I said, hurriedly packing my pencils into their cedar wood box and tying up my portfolio.
“Please don’t go, Edmund,” said Emily. “Sarah and I can lie next to each other while you and Lord James take us. Then you can change places half way through. That would be amusing!”
“Yes, indeed,” said Lady Caroline. Come along Edmund! I do enjoy seeing my lovely girls given a good fucking!”
“Thank you, ladies, it has been very...interesting. I have left the drawings here,” I said indicating the seat of the chair.
“I’ll let myself out!” Emily, kneeling on the bed had just slipped her hand down inside Hoxton’s black silk pyjama trousers and was patently caressing his manhood.
“Won’t you even stay for tea and fruitcake? Cook's is splendid. A nice topping of nuts too!” Hoxton said, as Sarah started to remove his smoking jacket. I closed the door to his rooms behind me and fled onto Piccadilly.
"Quite enough nuts already,’ I thought.
Thinking it prudent not to be seen having dinner in the hotel I took Edith to Reggiori Brothers splendid restaurant at the end of the Euston Road, just across the road from the Great Northern.
“She actually used the word ‘fucking’?” asked an amused Edith, as we sat having dinner. I had not used that word myself in describing the afternoon to Edith. I had said that she had used a very vulgar word describing copulation which might be heard in the London Irish changing rooms but never by a lady, even though she, indubitably, was one.
“As clear as day!” I replied, scooping up some potted shrimps.
“And Edna Somersby got drunk and told you of the time she caught me frigging myself on Compton Beach?”
“She did! She also knew perfectly well what my role was as regards you. I think that perhaps we should stop seeing each other!”
“What a silly idea! We just have to be a bit careful. George is back from Liverpool tomorrow afternoon and I will go back to being a dutiful wife but I intend to keep ‘seeing you’ until you leave for South America! After dinner I will leave you to pay the bill and we will give each other a friendly handshake. You will have a port and a cigar. Look, they have around forty cigars to choose from." She indicated the back of the menu where a selection of Havana cigars were listed.
“I don’t really care for cigars that much. I only have one if I have to for social reasons!” I said.
“I like the smell of them,” said Edith. “They remind me of my father. George does not approve of women smoking!”
“Is your father still with us?” I asked.
“Both my mother and father are alive and well. They live in Edinburgh as my mother is Scots and my father is a professor of engineering at the University. I visit them once or twice a year, without George, and my father always smokes a cigar after dinner while I have a cigarette.”
“You smoke cigarettes?” I asked. She certainly was a modern woman.
“Not very often. Perhaps like your partaking of cigars. An occasional treat. I do not like the smell in my clothes and so sometimes if I am away at my parents’ house I have one in the bath! Not at home of course. George would have a fit!”
“Not something to engender!” I laughed. I was surprised at Edith admitting to smoking. I had thought it was something you saw from the prostitutes who prowled the music halls and from market girls but that was it. Britten had told me it was getting more popular with a certain sort of modern woman. I imagined a room full of plotting Suffragettes, all puffing away beneath a cloud of smoke as they planned the downfall of men.
“Well, you can sit here for a quarter of an hour or so while I return to the Great Northern and prepare myself for your ardent attention!” she said, rubbing my leg under the table with her calf.
“I look forward to it, as ever,” I said.
“We will have a night of uncontrollable passion, our naked bodies sliding across each other as we grind, thrust, sweat and spend!” she said, whispering in my ear. “Fucking! All night!”
Chapter notes on this episode can be found here.