"I'll behave like a depraved fuckslut." That did it, the spunk shot down my leg, leaving me in a sticky mess. I had never heard Polly swear never mind...say anything like that before.I went to the Gents and cleaned myself up and then returned to the bar. The lights where still dim but I could make out in the gloom that Polly was kissing one of the guys. So not wanting to spoil her fun, I left and walked down to the theatre and hung around debating whether or not to go in. My mind was still racing. And for my sins, I have to admit that I had enjoyed every minute of it. I do not know who coined the phrase, ‘fucking is a toy which never fails to please’ but he was spot on! So, here I was quitting school, pushing nineteen years of age, so what next? As you can well imagine, in view of the remote relationship I had had all my life with my guardian, Aunt Agatha, I had personally not the slightest idea of what I should do next. I had not been a particularly clever pupil at school and had. She was short and slim — petite as she liked to call it — with small breasts and round hips, shapely legs and a surprisingly attractive round ass. Her hair was short blond, from a bottle, and a still-cute pixie face.Gerald had often spoke about how he thought my mother was attractive — a ‘hot little piece’ as he called her. I thought he always did it to get me angry — so over the years, had learned to just laugh off his comments — but perhaps he was serious after all.Why would mother offer such. He shuffled into the stupid make-up bag to find the lipstick.The shade he'd been made to wear that morning was an insipid pink called"Soft Dew." He'd soon learnt that all lipsticks had stupid names. Therewas only one lipstick in the bag, the one he'd worn for the party, a muchredder and visible lipstick called "Brushed Velvet."He cursed to himself, it's going to look so obvious he'd applied a newlipstick. However the fear of not doing so was greater. Hating himself herather too expertly.