"In a manner of speaking, yes I suppose I did." Oh, who?" Trish got up out of her seat and started to leave the livingroom, she was now crying fully."I killed myself, or at least who I used to be, I'm no longer the sameperson I was and now I find I can't ever return to who I used to be,"She rushed out of her room and into her bedroom, I could hear hermuffled cries but I didn't know what to do, I sat quietly as her cryingcontinued in the front bedroom and pondered the situation, what should Ido?, Trish was rapidly becoming a really good friend, she helped me whenI was most at need, I resolved to try and comfort her.I gently knocked on her bedroom door."Trish, are you okay, can I come in please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean toupset you, please don't be mad at me, the crying stopped, a few secondslater Trish appeared at her bedroom door, her eye makeup had run alittle and had left streaks on her cheeks."I'm not mad at you Chris, I'm mad at me." Oh." Come into my room, you can sit on the bed. " Well, nor do I but I suspect it is sometimes because they reveal themselves to themselves and don’t always like what they see. In your case, you’ll go mad because you want to expose yourself but your fucking bourgeois upbringing stops you. If you find Teri’s body arousing, let it speak in your work. Now go home, jill yourself off thinking about Teri then call me and tell you did it. Fuck off you silly prude." It was a slap but a slap of affection not malice. I smiled wanly and left to return to my empty flat. I showered, got naked into bed and, as Isobel had suggested, I began to stroke myself between my legs. No, I stroked my cunt. Why can’t I admit it even to myself? I masturbated, fingering myself deeply, lifting my knees. I curled my finger between wet lips, stroking deep inside and meanwhile rolling and squeezing my nipple. It wasn’t Teri I saw when my orgasm came, it was Isobel who reclined on the chaise, her breast exposed and her cunt, wet and open, that I saw. I didn’t call.
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