She was a Harrods hamper of a woman, packed with unseen goodies and unspoken promise. Her long curly dark hair cascaded down her brown shoulders and h...r back, while her bright blue swimming costume was under pressure. When she laughed, which she did often, she exposed a gap where she had lost a tooth just right of centre – not one of the front ones but close. It gave her a piratical look, as if she were about to swing across the way on a rope and hurl herself into the sea. She was a jolly,. Not attractive, not professional, but entirely unavoidable. She sighed, the tension leaving her, as I placed my hands on her shoulders, began to paw at her knotted flesh, still damp with sweat. Her breathing slowed. I watched her breasts rise and fall slowly under her t-shirt as relaxation swamped her. She trusted me. She was so used to forcing other bodies to submit to her will, there seemed nothing surprising about my instant command of her. Her skin was warm and soft to my touch. The muscles. More

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