The fresh air had pulled me together amazingly. Rosy and I sat on two kitchen chairs and held hands, and I talked quite sensibly (I think) about the people at the party. She told me amusing tales about them and we both laughed. Then she said, "Come, it's bedtime. Can you walk home?"
"I don't want to," I said and began kissing her and mauling her about.
"Stop," she said, "you're breaking my straps."
I had a handful of her delicious breast, by this time. Young and resilient, it was, with a n****e like a turnedup nose, hardening under the pressure of my fingers.
She wriggled and struggled in my grip, saying all the time that it was too late, and I was drunk, and I ought to go home, and even saying that she hardly knew me! (true though that was). But presently she caved in, suddenly, and g
