We're along way from the misty moors of Scotland. Just a little puff..." God, you're starting to sound like Mummy with her little double entendres," E... snorted. "Oh well, what the hell." She sighed, and spirited the joint from my fingers.Several drifty minutes later I stubbed out the joint and led a newly stoned and sweetly quiescent Em to bed. She was wearing the collar that night, but there was little in the way of domination as we shared out first, deliciously high kiss on Moroccan soil.. And then there were still the old timers who wore long-johns, but at the end of summer, these were difficult to find on washing lines.The next couple of gardens had just towels and sheets, the odd pair of pyjamas, a pair of curtains, but very quickly followed by another garden whose washing line was displaying an array of undies, both male and female. Wednesday must be "Undies Day" I thought. Lines and lines of men's briefs, mainly Y-Fronts, the occasional hipster, usually of nylon. I even. More

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