Marge however, had seen things a little differently. Yeah, just like me she had been keen to see the world. The Grand Canyon, The Rocky Mountains and ...hose great big redwood trees they have over there. We even talked about places like Ayers Rock in Oz and the North Island of New Zealand with its boiling mud pools and things. A New Zealander mate of mine had told of us about his skiing trips on the south island, that had always sounded like fun, a bit more exotic than the Alps anyway. But Marge. He’s got his eyes closed. Her tongue does that. You feel her fingers encircling you, the warmth of her mouth and the comfort and energy of her tongue as she works her careful ballet. She’s looking up at him, hoping for a reaction. I’m pretty sure his head arching backwards, breathing short and halting gives her what she’s looking for.Another song comes on, a little threatening in its initial chords. I take a sip of my bourbon, ice just starting to melt in the glass but not enough to mitigate. More

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