“Oh poor sweet naïve Allie… I was never watching Jack, he was just… what’s the word… yes, incidental! What is it, sixteen years and for all...that time I’ve wondered, dreamt about what that sweet little cunt of yours tastes like!”“Ohh my god!” I said sharply, “Chloe!”A switch seemed to flick in my friend and she leant forward and leant across the table knocking an empty shot glass onto the carpet which didn’t even register in her eyes as she closed the distance between us. I pressed myself back. I’m just as much a woman as whoever it was who dumped you earlier in the evening. More so, probably.” There was a discreet knock at the door. “That’ll be our coffee.” She opened the door and took the tray, setting it down on the bedside table. “What I suggest, Mr Michael Dawson, is that we have our coffee. Then, if you wish to dally a little, or even a long time, we can see how things shape, er, up”. The innuendo was gentle, but not lost on him. “If that’s. More

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