Olivia is now exploring your inner thighs. Her kisses sometimes depress your pillowy skin, sometimes trace the curves where the suspender straps compress that skin into smooth valleys. There is one valley she discovers all of a sudden. Her pursed lips place a soft, melting kiss on your own. Without parting, her lips massage circles into you, trail kisses up and down your blossoming labia. You let out a sigh and Amelie leans down to kiss your mouth, deeply.

Like a wrestler you throw Gemma onto the bed and keep her down with your weight as you spin above her. Your thighs push her head into the duvet, drowning any scream, and your hands isolate her knees and calves, pointing her toes in one convenient, helpless direction. Feet are a necessary evil. You get around them by deepthroating her calves all in one. The resulting kicking and thrashing underneath your belly excites you, makes you keener to put it inside your belly where it belongs.

Feels amazing, huh? So if you won’t let yourself indulge in that way, maybe you need someone to make it happen. Someone desperate, who has to make a few people disappear. Picture it: Night out, friend of a friend introduces you to this guy. Charming, bit jumpy. Workman’s hands, nice glasses, fits his T-shirt well. Later, when everyone’s more drunk than you are, they go trawling for a late-night shame feast.