But I baulked at the implications.I wasn't ready to - I simply couldn't - be open about my life. The fearof ridicule or worse was too great."You dres... up here in your bedroom. Surely that's not enough for you.How often do you go out dressed up? Once every few weeks? What doesthat do for you?"She'd hit a sensitive point. Dressing up in the privacy of my own roomfor sexual gratification was, ultimately, unsatisfying. I did go outjust occasionally. I'd met a fellow traveller at one of the. Arabella then became a symbol of the past. Their insatiable lust had brought them together, she falling madly in love with his cock, and the die was cast.They stayed together for they had no one else. When Frank hit it big it became necessary to put on a front of respectability, a mere put-on.There was no love between them, just torrid sex that had become mechanical but nonetheless pleasurable. They were fucking machines, that's all.Velvet had always been held up as a weapon against her. Frank. More

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