Keeping up the pretense was exquisite torture. Every glance at Karen stimulated me, and when our eyes met what passed between us stimulated me even mo...e. And I knew it was mutual. This woman who once worried about being frigid could now become aroused just from our imagination of each other. And so could I. I spent most of those evenings with a painful erection pressing against the jock strap I wore to hold it down.I knew it was a strain for Karen too. But I didn't realize just how desperate. I observe thisfrom the living room window, and go to meet Nigella as he comes in. Heshuts the door behind him, leans against it, and releases a held-inbreath in what might be relief. I sense that justifying his choice ofcostume has not been easy.Nigella latches on to me: we collect drinks from the kitchen andcirculate for a while. It's not a crushingly crowded party - perhaps 30or so people in Suzi's large house - so it's a friendly rather than afrenetic gathering. Few of them know Nigel -. More

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