Bernice turned and stormed off towards the front door.I quickly followed her and stopped her just as she reached the door. “Hang on – don’t go�.... “Fucking hell Barry, you’re a bastard”. I shrugged. “Don’t do that” she snapped. “Come on, stay” I said “we can carry on” I whispered gesturing upstairs with my head. “Oh fuck off” she yelled “I’m hardly in the mood now”. “And look what you’ve done to my best knickers” she said stuffing them into the collar of my t-shirt. With that she turned and left. I sat slumped, drunk and disgustingly dirty, in some dive of a pub. I don't know how I got there or even where it was. I held a double vodka in my hand, with several others already in my gut, when I saw her, a young, slim, dark haired, long legged, Miss Pouty sort of girl. She was sitting at a table with a crowd of what appeared to be druggies: unkempt young men and girls. She glanced over at me, and our eyes locked. It was unalloyed sexual magnetism, and I was consumed with lust. We kept eye. More

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