In her position there was hardly a mound except for the bright pink of her areola, her nipples hard from the frigid water. They looked deliciously lik... tiny strawberries. I was just about to nibble the one nearest me when she giggled something about her bladder, got up and left me staring into Chris’ eyes – who had obviously come to the same conclusions as me. He was beautiful to look at reclining on his back, his skin taunt from the water, his nipples hardly smaller than Angie’s and his cock. (I ought to know. Two failed marriages and a broken romance. It was easier having nothing sometimes.) I pulled up beside them and they got in. Vicky in the front and Frankie in the back, virtually hanging between the two front seats. Helloes were said. Cigarettes were lit and then things quietened down as I nosed the taxi out of the car park and joined the late night traffic. For the first couple of months that I picked the girls up I thought they worked at the club, but eventually they told me. More

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