’ She caressed his shoulders. Her touch was light, tormenting. ‘In my books, all the men are much thinner, nothing like as broad across here as yo....’ She leaned over to span his shoulders with her hands. The position put her close to his mouth and he longed to reach up and kiss her. He forced himself to stay still. She ran her hands over his chest. ‘None of them have muscles like this.’ She explored, digging her fingertips into the muscles. ‘And definitely, none of them are covered with red. By the time he had finished I would have gone with him anywhere. If he had no place to go, I would have made love to him there on the asphalt, in the very heart of the crowded festival. I would have offered my body as public testimony to his skill, as a sheath in which to place the sword of his essence, as an urn for the oil of his steamy masculinity. Luckily, no such public display on my part was necessary. Paul used the butter on toast routine as an excuse to end his show (prematurely, no. More

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