Remember the old fairground hammer and bell? Hit hard enough, the weight flies up setting off a satisfyingly loud clang.
Are you an arse man? Boobs, maybe? Feet? Well, those of you who know me will be surprised to hear that, walking through the park, I spied the most gloriously beautiful legs I’d ever seen; up went the weight, clang went the bell, all other thoughts erased.
She rose. Mesmerised, I followed those legs into a hotel, and, like an obedient slave, the room.
Lying on the bed, skirt up, knickerless, my lover chortled, “What is it about these legs?”
