She put her mouth to the letter-box and called:Love is patient, love is kind. It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.Love does not del...ght in evil but rejoices with the truth. “Mind your language!” muttered a passing pedestrian. “Fucking cunt…”Alison stuck her middle finger up at him, and continued:It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.Love never fails.There was a pause, before Alison heard soft footsteps from inside. “At last!” she sighed. The door. Examining the proffered view was pleasant; she was squatting with her knees about a foot apart, sans culottes (Without Panties), as the French might say, an intensely attractive woman, carefully groomed, well dressed, except for those naked parts, a handsome swell to her bosom, but not over developed, slinky, sexy calves and smooth thighs clad in the finest hosiery and tightly gartered, all highlighting her protrudent, hirsute blond mons and fleshy parted labial portal that was partially. She could feel the movements in the water, reaching for her covered breasts. But instead, he gently grasped her hand.“Do you think people cover themselves because they really believe that nudity is sinful, or because they are afraid of the world not accepting their true selves? Be proud of who you are. You don’t have to hide your beauty, especially from me. I’ll accept you for everything you are.”The way he spoke, that gentle and soothing way, it would have made her heart flutter if coming from. How do you feel now?’ ‘Much better. A little weak. Hungry!’ ‘Ah good, then you are already on the mend I think. Let me fetch breakfast.’ She disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a large and well-loaded tray. She set it on the chest, and poured Terence a mug of small beer. He drank thirstily while she prepared him a platter of cold meats and cheese and bread. This he wolfed down hungrily under her watchful gaze. She nodded finally, with apparent satisfaction. ‘Yes, you are on the mend..