Billy kept moaning that he needed an erection to ‘feel’ the part, to ‘experience’ the moment’ but my larking about prevented it. Yeah, right... Billy wanted to fuck me so he could tell his mates he’d fucked a dyke. I’d told him that instead of moaning he ought to act and I’d try to do the same just as long as nothing moved anywhere near my cunt. That had brought the pains on and the director, a lovely guy called Walter who had a gentle demeanour and a great sense of wit, had to take Billy to one. Now Missy lay panting beside me, lying on her side, satisfied at last, and touching some of the odd marks on my chest and face. "Tell me about this one again," she asked, fingering my cheekbone."I don' remember the lie I told you last time," I said. "Was that where the king's dancing girl scratched me?"She kicked me in the knee and made a face. "You are truly a mess," she said. "Don' know why I put up with you 'cept I enjoy you. Sometimes it feels you're usin' some'in like a hoe handle, I. More

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