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I never had to resort to sitting in the cab of the vehicle yet. Omelette, baked beans and fried bread. Coffee. Orange juice. I could almost feel my waistline spreading.The sky was overcast, but there seemed a minimal threat of rain. We duly dressed and straddled Oscar for a pleasant ride to Penrith. As it was quite warm, we dressed lightly, and I was very aware of her firm breasts pressed into my back as we rode.Once Oscar was safely parked and disc-locked, I turned to Dora. “Would you like company?”She smiled. “Not this time. Meet up at ... mid-day?”“Castle Park,” I said.I wandered the town until an ‘antique’ shop caught my eye. The three gold balls of a pawnbroker may have had something to do with it. In the window was a flute in an open case. The price - £500 – made my eyes widen, but I went in.“The flute, sir? Certainly!” He fetched it out of the window.Yamaha are a well-known maker of quality instruments, and I was happy to see their mark. The instrument looked fine to me, with. A current of warmth seeped in through her fingertips, following a languid circuit through her body. She touched and felt at the same time.She became a profusion of contours and silk.A sleepy smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she thought back on the voice of the man in the elevator the night before.As she stretched her sinews hard and taut in her bed, she could almost feel the strength of the hand that had suddenly gripped her shoulder from behind. The cut of her panties pulled against the motion of her hips as they rolled against the mattress. The tapered edges of the gusset cupped her mound. She remembered the hand and voice and felt the tingling warmth flush through her skin."Don't turn around," he'd said.The whisper had slithered into her ear like a trickle of warm cream. There'd been no threat in his tone. No more than the force of his ardent what ifs. His grip had merely been firm enough to suggest he had the strength to hold her, but giving her room to pull free if.
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