A cold chill swept through me as she folded her arms below her ample breasts, and enquired: ‘So, Miranda, you seem to have scored – who do we have here?’ My bubble burst in swift realisation, as the pointers all fell into place: Miranda’s failure to mention how she came to be at the party, her comment about knowing Geraldine for years, her familiarity with this upper and clearly more private part of the house, her confident occupation of this room. As I slumped back on the sheets, Miranda pulled out – my vagina was so sensitive, this was an erotic experience in itself. xxx18 It was a bedroom, but clearly not in regular use – there were no personal items in it, and it had that neat and tidy look that spoke ‘spare room’.
