Gently he eased his pelvis up against her weight to see whether she would try to stop him. She didn’t, just gripped his feet with her hands to keep ...erself in position. He pulsed again. Her fingernails dug into the soles of his feet. Memories of his sister tickling him as a child until he begged for mercy. She’s using her nails as spurs to confirm my rhythm, he realised, rising into her pussy as her nails scratched back along his feet, and again, and again. His firm belly pressed at her round. ’ She watches him tilt his head at her, smiling, sincere, his eyes warm, one hand clasped behind his back, the other holding the small tea tray. The book is left discarded as she stands, the story in its pages nothing compared to hers, compared to this. ‘What would I do without you?’ She says, her fingers rising to brush his cheek, her green eyes fixated on him, a smile rising on her face, her pink mouth parting. ‘Well,’ he looks away, blushes, ‘I’m sure you’d find someone else, Ma’am.’ ‘Not. More

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