We giggled and talked, and Jessica filled me in on this plan of hers, which all the girls had agreed had to be completed during the twelve days of Xma.... ‘Today is the first,’ I reminded her. She giggled, and just said ‘uh huh’. OK, I think I need to explain a few things at this point. Jessica and I had been lovers for about three years, and I can’t begin to tell you what a rollercoaster it had been. We had lived together this last year, in a converted warehouse building she had invested in, and. He was probably doing this to fulfill some strange, perverted sexual fantasy."Patrick, stop," I said more forcefully, nudging his aroused body from mine. He looked up, confused, and ran a finger down my face. If I didn't know him better I'd think it was a gesture of tenderness."I have to go." What?" He looked genuinely perplexed and stared at his sopping digit that had been inside me like he couldn't understand."I can't fuck you."His mossy eyes darkened at my language and he took a step closer. “Efficient as ever, Boscoe,” she said with a smile taking her place behind the steamer’s steering tiller. The Steamer’s iron clad wheels were soon crunching their way down the gravel drive as Alicia Vance headed off at speed, drawing cries from the hall’s peacocks as she sped past them through the gates of the estate.From a window on the first floor Harold, her husband, watched her leave. He hoped it heralded a quiet night, one where he would not be troubled by her quest for a child to continue. (That Turd was what she called my ex. She said he was too crap to have a real name.) I started to go for the door, to run out to the HOG. But then I felt worried. He wasn’t on his Harley Davidson Fat Boy and he was dressed in a fucking suit and tie. (Some kind of shimmering pale grey. I have to say, it looked fucking fine on him – although I prefer him in his weatherproofs of course.) I knew that if the HOG had decided to come back and give me another fuck he wouldn’t have come in a car,.