She was right. It definitely smelled like pussy, and that was a good thing, not a bad thing. She had a curious grin on her face and she'd made no move...to cover her pussy while I checked out the gun. I told her that her 'piece' smelled good enough to eat, and without any hesitation she said, “My pussy would taste better I think. I used some special oil on it tonight, in case you might be interested.” Now her grin was ear to ear. I reached over and touched her. Sure enough, even the little tuft. When I get home Jez is in front of the telly; wearing just her knickers and tee shirt.Over her shoulder, without even taking her eyes off the screen she calls ‘Dan rang to say he will be home late tonight. Why don’t he read me a bedtime story any more?’Instead of inventing an explanation, I correct her grammar. ‘Why doesn’t, not why don’t.’ I retort, proceeding to the kitchen.I start to put the shopping away before the frozen things begin defrosting and suddenly she alongside me; “I had one of. More

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