Dressing for Pleasure

Tina wears a long towelling robe now, and sits in a recliner with her feet tucked up under her and the TV flickering soundlessly opposite her. She looks Greg up and down with a Mona Lisa smile playing about her lips while he counts the notes out into her hand.

When he's done she says, "See you again darling," in her sexy throaty drawl, "You've got my number."

Greg says nothing. She is good he thinks. But he knows there's a frission in change, which keeps the fantasy fresh, keeps it alive. And because she's good he knows she knows it too.

He knows too, and turns it over pleasurably in his head, that this weekend sex with his wife Lynette will be hot. He's been well used and possessed and that always leaves him lusting.

Greg leaves No 23, his steps long and soundless now on the path. He closes the gate behind him. At the curb he puts the small black AIRPORT suitcase in the boot of the BMW and takes out Angela's present. Its hard for him to believe she is eleven already - she's growing up too fast. He opens the car door and puts it carefully on the back seat, then gets in, pulls away from the curb, and heads back to the highway.

Turning north he slots himself back into the slow stream of hot traffic glancing at the clock in the dashboard. 6.53. He hopes the girls won't be asleep before he gets to his parents' house.