"You have to come back. I want to do it some more, but never with my husband so you have to come back. Can I call you the next time he goes out of tow...?" I would be crushed if you didn't." He doesn't go all that often; maybe only once a month on average." That's too bad. I would really like to see a lot more of you." That is sweet of you to say, but I only want to do it when he is out of town and I know he won't be around to catch me."As I drove away from her house I was again thinking about. Now she was near him, leaning on the balcony of the bedroom of her holiday hotel in Menorca. She was wearing a loose, crop top t-shirt and beige shorts with an elasticated waist. Her back was to him now but later…..He moved up behind her and put his hands on her hips, just standing slightly apart from her – he expected her to resist or pull away but she moved her body back to press against his loins. He moved his hands round and up under her soft t-shirt, slowly sliding over her skin to cup her. We were on the local motorway doing nearly ninety miles an hour. ‘What is all this about, Heather?’ ‘It is about saving your job, your career and us. You sent my valentine to everyone in the company. It is obviously from you to me. You even included a facsimile signature. The verses inside refer to me. And my anatomy. In detail. Don’t they?’ I thought about the care I had put into that Valentine message. Ouch! I had been explicit about the parts I liked and why. ‘Uh… Yes.’ ‘Uh… Yes? You know. My images on screen were blurring as each one replaced the next in a continuous exhibition of c***d-like pornography, undeveloped breast, taut tight tummy muscles, rarely seen on a girl one year shy of her f******nth, a feminine six-pack that daddy has made me tease his friend with, tapering off as if pulled between my muscular thighs, the elastic of my knickers barely covering the polished pearl, each man looking and holding their breath, one centimetre they are screaming, oh how a girls.