The more I kissed him, the more aroused I became. I was totally absorbed by his scent and the fact that he was just as into it as I were. His hand ran...up and down my spine, then moving in front to have better access to my breasts. Spontaneously, I reached down and into his trousers. His erection stood pleading to be freed from the wall of denim that stopped it from being caressed, sucked and maybe even fucked. And I was the lucky lass. I smiled at the thought and automatically unzipped his. So either there’s a whole crew of whackos out there, in which case where the hell are the rest of them, or it’s door number three—which is that somehow or another Hugo’s for real and has come through about three hundred centuries or so to wind up in my living room. Maybe some kind of suspended animation, he got frozen in a glacier and only just woke up? But no, that doesn’t fit what he’s been telling me, and anyhow I don’t think it can happen. If you freeze you die, the water inside the body’s. More

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