" Well sorry won't do you any good young man... How can you think of doing such a nasty thing?... Your own mother... Wanting to smell my vagina... Wel... smell it you little pervert... Smell it... Stick your nose in your mother's vagina and smell it... Lick my vagina you dirty little bastard... Lick it... Yes... Like that... Lick it like that... Your own mother... My God... Sucking your own mother's vagina... Aren't you ashamed boy?... Licking your mother's vagina and sucking her clitoris... Oh. I got crosser and crosser. The open bra, now – obviously - simply the best one in the world, was scratching me on the inside of my arms, just to make me even more annoyed and angry. Andy was lying on our bed, with that cross little boy look men get when they thought they were going to come and don’t. I didn’t say a word. I threw the quilt onto the floor and got four ties from his cupboard. I tied him spreadeagle to the bed, not roughly or securely, just symbolic really. A message. I wanted to. "The Pilgrim raised a hand at that remark, looking at Molo with intensity and even wariness. He told him crisply, his words coming out of his mouth harsh and unyielding, very much unlike his usual meek and irenic manner:"Man is always wrong, he is never right. His faith may be right, pure, unyielding, constant. But a man can never be right. Only God is right. Error, wrong, fault. These are the domains of man. Do not ever step lightly on one of God's domains."Molo was genuinely surprised. The. Instead of fastening your seat belt, you staggered to your feet, adjusting your mini-skirt before you passed down the aisle to the restroom. I pulled the blanket up under my chin and refastened my trousers. I dozed off. When I woke up, you were back in your seat, reading your novel. I glanced over at you and you smiled. You are so mischievous. Still, you didn’t say anything. I closed my eyes and fell asleep. The stewardess work me up as we were making our final approach into McLaren in Vegas..