”“You haven’t packed your belongings yet?” Weasel demanded.“I didn’t know when they were shipping me out,” Gath said with a shrug. “No... that I know, it’s going to take me a little bit to stow everything.” This was not the least bit true. Gath had had his few belongings ready to move out ever since his two guests had moved in, but he needed an excuse to stall for time.“Well ... how much time could it possibly take to pack your belongings?” Weasel demanded.“At least an hour,” Gath told him.“An. After a lot of ego boosting spirits, together they staggered to the station, each buying a big bunch of flowers from a stall in the station, (the railway equivalent of ‘petrol station after-thought flowers’,) both thinking it, an ice breaker, a diplomatic start of their week of hopeful lust. Taking their places in the train and sharing a last nip from their hip flask`s, they exchanged wives names, house keys and oh the house addresses, just in case, each saying that the wives should be meeting. Or maybe the slut table, where I probably belonged. We both seemed to stay out of the conversation and I was happy when lunch was over. The hardest scrutiny I felt was from teachers eyes, I felt like every teacher, especially the female teachers were looking at me as if I was dirt off their shoes. You know I have to believe a good percentage of my fellow female classmates gave head to their boyfriends too, so why was I getting the looks like I was some type of diseased slut. I swear it felt. As I pulled into Tesco's car park sure enough Imran was there at the doors. I parked, tweaked my nipples to make sure they were pressed hard against my Tshirt, opened the door and set off. As I walked towards Imran, as usual his eyes were riveted on my breasts and his hand went into his pocket. I just said straight our "are you holding your cock Imran". He looked startled and stuttered yes Miss Kathy I am, sorry" I said "don't be sorry, enjoy it" Before he could speak again I said "Imran, it is.