Scrawled on that was the message – Dr Kildare’s Café, 7.30 in the morning. That café – its real name The Kapai Café – was in a row of shops...opposite the main gates of the hospital. A novel could be written about the romances, intrigues, broken hearts and sobbing confessions that swirl around the tables in that place. Marg, mindful that her mother had made her promise to always be a good girl, had resolved never to enter that dingy den of immorality where allegedly one’s propriety can be. No other word for it. Shit, I felt left out here and there and a tad of the old evil jealousy, too. But I was there to play and it had been my brilliant idea from the start... eh? So I joined in wherever it felt right and let myself go, even in spite of them kissing each other so passionately you'd swear it was their honeymoon night.And then Joe started fucking her, in the usual missionary style. I watched, fascinated, my cock in Barb's hot mouth in between their quite real kisses, as Joe. More

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