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"This is another secret women share only with each other," she said asshe kissed her way down my hairless belly. "How certain skin lotionskeep us so well moisturized and lubricated that a man's body slippingand sliding around on ours feels no resistance, no friction. So we feelas if we were made of satin, or air. Don't we?" We did. We slipped and slid all over each other. And occasionallyslept.Sunday evening we came aware that we were starved, that we hadn'teaten anything since Friday except each other's juices and the syrups,jellies, and whipped toppings we'd been eating off and out of eachother. So we decided to go out for dinner to a quiet nearbybistro. Sharon was pleased to see that I kept my bra on -- its hugfelt reassuring, somehow. She took it as a gesture of solidaritywith her kind. Otherwise I dressed in my usual male clothes. Butat the last minute she refused to supply me with lipstick remover,suggesting I should instead make up the rest of my face as a. The man gently shook her awake as they entered Chelmsford. It took Charlotte a while to come fully to her senses and then she remembered where she was and how she had got here. She was acutely aware of her body odour, which she had tried to disguise with perfume until it had ran out two days ago.“Where are we going?” she asked.“There,” the man pointed to an imposing structure that could have been a small castle through the trees.Behind the building loomed a huge metal tower; the structure towering above the treeline in the dwindling light. Charlotte knew from her World War Two studies that it was an old Second World War radar tower; the only one still remaining and it helped Charlotte find her bearings and figure out where she was.The car pulled onto a long driveway girded by tall pines followed later by the crunch of gravel as the car entered a courtyard out the front of what appeared to be a manor house.“Welcome to Chelmsford Hall; I’m Lord Edward Tilsbury, and the distinguished.
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