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Using the excuse of feeling nervous I snuggled closer under your arm breathing you in.Reveling in the admiring looks I was getting from others. I was proud to be seen out with someone so hot and caring. Placing your hand gently on my bottom you assured me you knew a short cut away from the crowds. Guiding me with gentle but firm pressure through multiple corridors we ended up in a disused part of the station. I threw you an enquiring look and you just smiled and indicated I carried on walking. Following a maze of corridors, we ended up at an old staff room, still fully functional with kettle, fridge, and very oddly a purple velvet sofa. Why there would be a purple velvet sofa in a disused train station staff room eluded me but I was sure it would all make sense soon.You pushed me down to sit on the sofa telling me to relax whilst you made tea, knowing somehow how I take it without asking. I sat quietly taking in the view before me, your trousers hugging your ass, your buttocks. The bell went again. “I’ll get it, Debbie,” Clare Junior said, and so ‘Debbie’ led Luke into the living room.They could hear Clare’s voice excitedly telling the visitor something, and the other woman, for it was a woman, answering her in more measured tones.Catherine was duly introduced to Claire, but Catherine was much more reserved. At this, John appeared from the kitchen, while Claire took his place cooking, leaving John to face his daughters, but leaving the door ajar to catch the conversation.“Good God, Dad!” exclaimed daughter Clare. “Your face!”“Is this what was in the papers?” asked Catherine, wincing at his facial bruising.“What was in the papers?” cried Clare. “Who’s attacked you Dad?”John was about to water down the story but Catherine was too quick for him.“Two men, father and son, attacked Dad. They beat him up. The father accused him of sleeping with his wife – Dad you didn’t, did you?” Then a gasp of realisation: “Claire’s the wife of the man who attacked you. It did.
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