''The gimp?'She nods. 'Him. Is he still eyeing me up?'Understatement. The guy is transfixed and I tell her so. Emma flicks her hair and does the leg-c...ossing thing again, slips a shoe and dangles it from her foot, idly scratches an 'itch' on her thigh, just under her dress. 'And now?' she grins.'He's fucking dribbling, ' I chuckle. 'You shouldn't tease the guy, Em. It's not fair. It's mean.'She smirks. 'Guess he doesn't see much action, huh?''Think that's safe to say, Em, yes.'Emma goes quiet. Of course, her short, dark, curly hair needed little attention to be, well, natural, and Emma knew I didn't care much for cosmetics. She was slim, lithe and beautiful just as she was. She was wearing a dark red dress that I thought suited her very well; it certainly held promise that raised ideas in my head ... and other places.As we set out, I took Emma's hand, but she wrapped it round herself and tucked in against me, so we walked tucked in close to each other the half-mile or so to the. More

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