“Requiescat im pace,” she intoned softly, and pulled the lever, but her utterance was inappropriate, since however much she wished peace upon her departing friend, it was being denied exactly that by her own action of flushing it round the u-bend and into the sewage system where, admittedly, it would join many more of its own kind.
He slapped her arse again, and again, and again, until he drew a little blood and, less intentionally, a soft but definite log.
Her hair was golden, her eyes a deep green, and when he first touched her skin, it was so soft, soft like the cock of someone with impotence (not him – his cock was hard).
Their bodies undulated together, and suddenly she seized him passionately and held him close, his hard wand delving even deeper inside her than it had already. She had never shared such an intimate moment with anyone, and she savoured it, her eyes closed. Slowly she opened them again, smiled and kissed him, then began to loosen her hold just a little, her fingers dragging softly down from his neck to his back. As they did, she let her nails scrape tantalisingly across his tingling skin, until she felt them sink in and, entirely unintentionally, tore a furrow into his leprous flesh.