“Paris you mean?”
“I see your intent there Dulcie, but I am no Parisian. I am from Bordeaux. A Bordosian I think.”
“Probably right,” Ray agreed.
“So why the rope?” She held it up while rummaging further. “Oh Smiths crisps. I love the crisp. And two more ropies!”
Ray leant close and whispered. We’re going to tie your ankles to your ears and then f**k you deep babe.”
She swayed slightly, hiccupped and announced. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Once in the flat, with a re-emergence of intoxication she ventured. “With or without togs?”
She was obviously taken with the idea.
The surprise or maybe shock, though I doubt it, was gone, and the deed seemed quite pointless. Knowing then that the infamous Jerry was still chasing rather dulled the more exotic stimulus of bondage. I opted for a
