Each stroke of the brush luxuriates through your hair. Your hands sit on the the table in front of you and a little dampness gathers under your palms....Your body is warm and your skin sparkles. The chair is forming a tiny puddle where you sit and we can both smell perfume. The brush rises to the top of your head and falls like water down your back. The brush rises to the top of your head and the pleasure washes over the length of your hair. I ask you to stand. I bend you over and place your. A whole fortnight of debauchery.’ ‘A fortnight? I thought it was just for a week of hiking and camping over the moors,’ I said. ‘Yes. Then another week at the Manor.’ ‘What will we do in that week?’ I asked. ‘I’m sure that they will come up with something,’ he said. ‘Talking of something coming up….’ He didn’t need to finish the sentence for we both knew and felt to what he was referring and so he rolled off me and found a condom and quickly rolled it down on my erection and assumed his. More

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