But here she was, in Michael’s house, surrounded by his stuff.Surrounded by his musk.She could lay naked on his bed and get herself off, his demon p...eromones filling her nostrils.And then, she could take a jersey or a sports jacket - something that was distinctly his. The next she saw Brandi, she could make sure to be casually wearing it.That would show her.But for now, she had an appointment with Michael’s bed and her own fingers. An appointment that - judging by how turned on she was - could. He turned up one day very tall, very dark and extremely handsome wearing a dark grey suit. As the plans became set he said he would come down to Nairobi to meet her at the airport and escort her up country himself. If she played her cards right, she thought, she might not need her toy after all. She smiled and quietly dozed off as the plane eased forward through the clear blue air towards Africa.Liz and Deedi left the airport straight away and headed off to the house in Ealing, just off the M4. The cool air of the room gives me goose bumps and makes me shiver. We sit up and you pull my shirt over my head and I pull yours off too. I fall back on top of you and kiss you harder. I move down your body and kiss your neck. Your hands move over my back along my spine. I lift myself onto my arms and off of your body. I move further down to kiss the top of your breasts above your bra. I slip my fingertip underneath the edge and pull it up over your nipple. It’s already hard from my touching. ‘I know what you are going to say. But I swear I thought that old man on the push bike was going to turn left.’ ‘Well he didn’t have much choice did he? He had to turn the corner or you would have knocked him off.’ ‘Well he did wave to say sorry,’ I said. ‘He was waving his fist. You should have ignored the Lorry driver too,’ the examiner said with a shake of his head. ‘Well he called me a tart. Do I look like a tart?’ His eyes rolled up my legs, to my denim miniskirt, and my tight low cut.
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