Sometimes she would massage his neck and shoulders or his feet. Sometimes she would simply bathe his feet with her tongue. And, yes, sometimes he woul... allow her to take him in her mouth but this was not often – surely not often enough for her. She kept the hope he would allow her to massage him but as he was in his street clothes she knew she was hanging on a thread.Tonight he was in a mood. He wanted to talk.“How was work?”“Work was nothing unusual. It was very quiet last night.” She worked. You should do it.”His wife, Beverley, squeezed his hand, whispering into his ear.“I’d rather it was you then anyone else. Just be gentle with her...” he was amazed, looking into her eyes directly and noticing the tiniest of smiles as if she somehow knew this was inevitable. “ ... everyone’s waiting. Go have fun”.He looked down at his ticket, suddenly aware that several seconds had passed since the winning number had been announced, and took a deep breath. His arm raised, holding his hand up as. More

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