One Sunday morning, I was sprawled out on the sofa in the recreation room not wearing stich of clothing under the thin sheet when she came in wearing ...er totally sheer night shirt and no panties at all.It didn’t take but a couple of moments and a short conversation that consisted of, “Good morning, your sister is still sleeping.”“You are looking mighty fine this morning, Betty Ann.”“Back at you, baby boy. What is that thing sticking up under the sheet?”“Sit on it and find out for true, pretty. Petra had no interest in getting involved in a squabble with these lads.Her hotel was only three streets away and she held her purse close toher body and fought her way through the crowd to the door of the pubsuffering the indignity of a few pats on the rump and a stray handslipping under her skirt.Once out in the cold fresh night air she started to feel a littlebetter; she leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths. Therewas no sign of the Mondeo but the pub was so crowded that quite. More

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