She grinned reached for the tatty mack and was soon looking at an even more tatty pair of trousers. held up by a length of sash cord. The trousers dropped, and there was a smelly unwashed cock not huge, not special, just smelly, came into view, unwashed and now attempting to rise to the occasion. Without ado she pulled it to her and braving the smell she began her evening`s entertainment. She put her heart and soul into those first blow jobs, allowing each to finger her now very wet cunt. Pat first, then John, whose dick like a horse and flooded her mouth like a hose, Sid, who`s thanks were so heartfelt she almost cried she was so touched and then the reluctant Mickey, with just 3”at full reach, who settled for just had a hand job, though it really was more of a fingering and a kiss while his hand was under her skirt. she left Charlie till last, taking his hand and asking, “where was his tent,” he appreciated that gesture, not relishing what he knew would be armature-fumbling’s. Despite my grumpy mood the sight of Shelley cheered me up. Her dress almost fitted her, or perhaps it was designed to show off so much of her anatomy, and that which was revealed was very nice I thought. All the way to the Dorchester she gave me instructions. ‘Now for God’s sake smile at people, they are not the enemy. Be nice and talk to them in sentences of more than one word, and in English, not that medical gobble-de-gook. Don’t drink too much.’ ‘I don’t drink.’ ‘Don’t you?’ Shelley was surprised. ‘In that case I think you should have one drink, it may make you more human… and stop leering at my tits. You know damn well why I am glammed up like this.’ I knew full well that she had designs on Sir Henry. ‘If he doesn’t react to you in that dress then he isn’t human. Let me know if you ever give up the chase.’ Shelley giggled. ‘That’s better. That was almost like a red-blooded man talking. There’s hope for you yet. Oh and Simon. I’m a girl with expensive tastes, so unless you have.
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