Instead, she felt obliged to sit there, on one of the two poorly sprung second-hand armchairs in Freddy’s room, mesmerised by the sight of real fuck...ng, wishing that she were the one being fucked and not Ella. Fatima had time to study the scene in detail. It was a little like the porn films she’d seen. Only there was none of that chintzy synthetic music: the soundtrack being the garage sound of Ayia Napia coming from the stereo and totally out-of-synch with the action. The grunts and wheezes. ‘First of all, let me give you your check.’ That said, she leaned forward, reached into her tiny purse and took out a check and handed it to him. As he accepted the check, Carol thought, the meal was an obligation that could not be avoided, but if he revealed one iota of sexual interest I was going to jump his bones. Besides the son-of-a-bitch could write! Stay professional, you sex-crazed cow! Carol warned herself, but she continued appraising him–His shoulders were broad and his back was. More

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