"You're a whore, aren't you?" Yes. Yes." Say it." I'm a whore," I screamed."Whose?" Yours." Name?" Barbara's." Can Bev or Wendy spank you too?" If you...want them to." Do you want to?" asked my wife, of the others. "Wendy, you go first." Wendy got up gingerly, to give me her contribution, but Barbara insisted that I go to her. Which I did. Wendy hesitatingly allowed me to occupy her lap, and to force my cock down between her legs. Her first slaps were innocuous, but at Bev's insistence, her next. Where’s the nearest clothes shop?” “Sorry?” Her voice was milk-maid cute. “I need to buy a pair of trousers.” I saw her look down at my legs which were clearly not naked. “For the wedding. Today. Here. This afternoon.” “Oh. Righto. Well …” She launched into a potted geography of the local area, punctuated with snippets of her own very local history and that of various neighbours, school friends and family members. Eventually she disgorged that there was a gentleman’s outfitters in the small. More

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