Thursday, March 26, 2020



         He was an old guy now, with a pot belly, huge shoulders, a drinking habit and horrendous breath. He sat talking to the young woman across the room from him.
        He said: " If we ever had sex ( and you could avoid looking at me for a while) I'd have you hooting and howling and scratching the walls with your manicured fingernails; I'd have you panting and screaming and begging for mercy - as I teased you right to the edge - about this time you'd be trying to bite me, but as I have right now... one hand over your crotch and the other over your mouth, the neighbours would not hear your mad, shuddering supplications...but the sensitive ones would sense the steam emanating from your silenced mind... deep into the tropical night."

She crossed her legs up high under her tight skirt, and she said:  "I suspected as much. And that's one reason I'm never going to get in bed with you."
            "It'll never happen," she said.
            "So you believe," said he.

(C)2020 by W.G. Milne

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