So far this was just a whisper campaign, with nobody saying anything for the record, and nobody saying where they had heard these silly rumors, but it...was starting to get out. I spoke to Fletcher Donaldson the last weekend of July at the house in Hereford, and he told me he had heard some things, but without any confirmation he couldn’t print it yet. I simply replied that it was three years away from the election, and he shouldn’t believe everything he heard.So, I fought back. What better way. The last time they'd gone to the Green Door a couple of weeks ago, there hadn't been anyone there they really wanted to have sex with and they hadn't been happy with the couple they finally went to a private room with.When they came out later with dissatisfied expressions, an attractive late-thirties couple stopped them and invited them to a party at their house. They said Brad and Ashley fit the mold of the people they wanted to party with. Brad and Ashley looked the fit couple over... they. We talked a bit more, I’m finding less annoying. I don’t know if it’s because I was half pissed or if she’s less irritating when she’s had a few beers and a joint, but either way we seemed to get on better.Eventually, she fell asleep, or passed out. My mate decided that enough is enough, woke her up enough to get her upstairs to bed and decided to call it a night himself. I found myself in a sleeping bag on the settee in the open plan living room-kitchen, listening to music quietly and having a. I had been even more highly sexed since Chas had told me and I had worn him out, wanting to be fucked all the time. Not that he was complaining as I was an reasonably attractive sexy women, and one hell of a fuck. As Chas waited for me in the hall to come down from getting ready I was thinking of what may happen that night, how far I would want to go. My musing was cut short when I appeared at the top of the stairs. Hell, Chas said. You look stunning. I was dressed in a very short tight skirt.