One afternoon Roger was down at his potting shed in just his shorts as was a normal occurrence, he gave up wearing underwear after his wife died, save... on washing apparently. The radio was on in the background when Ollie came through the adjoining gate, obviously his dress code had rubbed off on him although Rogers shorts weren’t quite as short as Ollies, youth of today!.“What’s up Ollie?” Roger asked pleased of the company, “Hi Uncle Rog, Ella was going to wash mum’s car, you want yours done?”. One of his hands abandoned its commitment to her breasts and struggled to unfasten the belt around his waist. Over the jangle of the buckle unfastening, Lynn's breath was fast and laboured. The sound of a zip was apparent, and in my peripheral vision I could see Dave's trousers and pants dropping to his ankles. My eyes were still on Lynn though, her eyes now closed, her lips, tongue and teeth familiarising themselves with Dave's. Their kissing was intense; Dave's neck now craning back to ensure. More

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