(About Bob the Builder and how I got belated ‘full-filled’ we can talk in my shack!). The two I will mention played with and aroused my lively dir...y mind more than my unloved, ugly pussy.To be fair, the first, Anil, did not know what he was doing to me. He was an Indian postgraduate student I met during my year in Cambridge. He was a historian, came from a three-generational Indian railway family. He worked on a thesis and book about the nineteenth Century colonial railway boom.I was stuck in. ‘It’s me, Richard.’ ‘What’s the password?’ I smiled and wracked my brain for an appropriate response. ‘Gentleman Caller.’ ‘That’ll do,’ and the door swung open. Gaynor enthusiastically pulled me into an embrace, a gold hoop pressing against my cheek. ‘Good to see you, Gentleman Caller,’ she breathed into my ear and then leaned back at arm’s length. ‘Let me look at you, old man.’ I also looked at her. She wore her nurse’s uniform, starched white with green belt clinched at the waist and. More

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