”Charles drove home convinced that he was in a dream suchwere the events of the day. He drifted off to sleepeventually holding his firm cock. At...five in the morninghe put his work clothes on a hanger and threw on an oldtracksuit. Jessie’s door was not locked and he quietlymade his way to the kitchen. Jessie had left everythingready for him. He slipped out of his tracksuit and, asrequested, took her coffee into her bedroom. There wasonly a small nightlight on and he could make out. That last weekend in July, immediately the schools broke up, was a scorcher, with blue skies and the rising sun to our backs. I can see the route on the map now but my overriding memory of the A30 was a series of short ‘bypasses’, some of them nowadays barely recognisable as such. In the 1960s they were loops around congested town centres avoiding local traffic. These new stretches of tarmac were surrounded by fields, or lined with spacious suburban houses. Now swallowed up by further ribbon. More

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