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I walked towards the bar. John leaned over the bar to get a better view of his wife, Karyn, as she turned around and bent herself over the bar stool. ...he lifted one of her legs onto the lower part of the stool and climbed over it; displaying her arse and cunt wantonly to Brian’s gaze. I tapped Brian on the bum as I walked past him, “Now that’s what we mean by ‘fuck ready’,” I told him. Karyn looked over her shoulder, “Fuck my wet, dripping cunt.” Karyn was being polite when she told Brian to. Not much in it, of course - a few pairs oftrousers, some nice white shirts. She had nothing of particular value tobring with her, and not even a gold coin to her name. She had some hopethat her parents would see her off with some money,but it was little morethan a vague dream.She'd have to get used to living without servants, of course. She'd spentthe last two years learning to do everything they did, though: how toclean, how to cook and how to dress herself. The head of staff had evenwritten. More

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