What are you saying? Is your mouth full?” She attempted to shout, frustrated, but again she couldn’t. “You’re late, you won’t speak to me a...d…” he hooked a finger around her knickers and pulled them aside. “… and your fuckholes are filthy. You’re a disgrace.” After another moment of silence she felt the cold of an icecube again, but this time it was pushing against her snatch. It popped in easily, thanks to her wetness. Painfully cold and big enough to make her feel full, it started to melt at. Ah, her knickers! I made a point of locating the laundry basket in the master bedroom and quickly rummaging through the discarded clothes until I found a pair of sensible knickers that weren't Mandy's. I put them to my nose and inhaled, and all there was was stale piss, but it was Mrs Hubert's stale piss.And then I assessed where her arse would be and sniffed there in the hope that they would have ridden up into her crack at some point. I imagined a faint trace of that. I had to step quickly. More

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