“So you like my legs and feet. Now let me hear in more details, what you like about my feet and legs. And don't think about what you're saying. Just...say it” “Can i take some more whiskey and a cigarette. Please” “Sure. Go right ahead. I'm having fun. Aren't you?” As i poured myself another whiskey. I thought about how horny i was. And how horny is a kind of fun. “Sure I'm having fun” I light my cigarette sat back in the sofa. “Now we are ready. Tell me Brian” I closed my eyes and started. I had got used to doing everything for myself since my wife had left me eight years ago. I had become so independent that I nearly always rejected offers of help, in case people thought me weak or vulnerable. I'd heard the whispers: 'Poor Mr Bishop, all alone, nobody to look after him'. The women seemed to be worse, often asking: 'Are you okay, do you need some company after work?' I'd been tempted on many occasions to go to end of term drink, but I'd seen too many careers damaged by liaisons. More

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