Patsy’s dress keeps blowing up, exposing her thighs and offering a glimpse of the panties. The contrast between the orange panty and the white cleft...of my [sic] bottom re-minds me of a giant multicolored Oreo cookie (besides sex I like food a lot). She whispers to me that the wind is ruffling her pubic hair.The restaurant is packed. It doesn’t take reservations so we get in line. People are pressed in all around us, waiting for a table. Patsy gives a little gasp of alarm and a sharp “Oh.” I’m. But perhaps you would humour me, nonetheless?” Freya looked him in the eye. She saw no malice, no hidden agenda. “Give me half an hour to make myself presentable. But I don’t go for drinks with people I don’t know. I’m Freya.” “And I’m Gregory. Gregory Marsden, I’m a loss adjuster … ironically.” He laughed. “And me? I’m in Quality Management consultancy.” “I bet that’s quality with a capital Q. Half an hour then? I’ll be. More

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