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We decided to grab a drink at one of the numerous bars and pubs that line the south bank of the river Thames so as to catch up and for me to tell her about all the places I had seen on my travels. We started off with her arm interlinking with mine, but very quickly my arm was draped over her shoulders so as to hold her tight. We walked past a number a number of bars that we had visited in the past but now deemed them to be too packed before settling for a pub with a view of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, one of the most iconic buildings in London. The place we finally settled on was a quaint pub by the name of the Mad Hatter, a ridiculous name in keeping with the naming of all British pubs. Once we had entered, I set off for the bar as she set about finding seats. Once I had got my pint of beer and her gin and tonic, I noticed that she had claimed a nice leather sofa hidden in a dark corner and I quickly realised what she had in mind for later on in the evening. Initially we were very. ‘Uh, hmm.’ I scratch my head and square my shoulders. Then, I steady the make-believe pages as though I’ve found my bookmarking. ‘Let’s see here, how shall I start this?’ Hence, accordingly, after been given the right-of-way, I now describe a story, a story with a sexual undertaking for you to wholly note and thoroughly consider. ‘Er, right! Okay, let’s do it. Here is your story. But what you really ought to understand is that this is a different kind of story. That is, it’s different because, well, you have to concentrate–and more importantly, you must participate! You need to relax and pretend you’re sitting at home and alone. Yes, alone, all alone, and all by yourself. Although I’m here–in my home and far away from you–I want you there, where you are, to start thinking only of me. You should be dreaming of wanting me, wanting me badly! Desperately, how you wish to be with me, and then imagine that I–‘ You sit glued to the chair, entirely engaged and clinging to my every sentence..
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