“So. Biscuit, biscuit,” pondered Erin, clearly not expecting anyone to interrupt. Her head of shortish wavy brown hair was nodding gently. “Tast.... Mouth, lips. What do we get in a search?”Phoebe did the image search for ‘ice cream biscuit’.“So,” Erin contemplated the results, “mostly it’s the ice cream being the filling.”“The tongue is about taste,” said Phoebe.“Taste and sex,” said Zann.“Everything is sex,” said Saffie, “it’s just a question of how much.”“So the point of the biscuit is it. Even in my feverish state she couldn't be ignored. Tall, perhaps five ten or eleven with a magnificent bust and great long legs all hidden under her sexless airline uniform. At last, we landed and the aircraft came to a halt at the terminal."Thanks for flying with us," she said in her best professional voice.She took my hand to shake goodbye when I became aware that she had palmed me something. I dared not look until I was waiting for my luggage to appear on the carrousel.'Sophia' and a cell. More

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