‘These things have got to go.’ She began rolling the left stocking down her leg, but I stopped her with a hand on hers. ‘Hold on,’ I chuckled....‘I’ll do it for you.’ The stockings felt electrified to me, sending tingles through my palm and I stroked one hand up her leg from ankle to thigh. I had to swallow against a suddenly dry mouth, and I felt Amy do the same as the previously dry air got hot and heavy. Both silent, we watched the dark shadow of my hand on her ephemeral stocking and I pushed. This was clearly not a place of poverty. She felt a little nervous as she took off her padded jacket, under which she was wearing a sleeveless singlet that barely pretended to hide her tiny little breasts. The house didn’t have the smell she’d become so accustomed to: of unflushed toilets, unscrubbed beer-stained linoleum and hashish-stained wallpaper. However, her feeling of feeling an inferior outsider diminished as she began recounting her exploits across the continents, the people she’d. More

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