If my tactics don’t work, tant pis – too bad – she’ll be gone anyway at the end of the afternoon and I’ll never see her again. Anal sex She’s in a foreign country. I need to empty my bladder in readiness, so I leave her alone for a while; I can always find her again in that uniform. Jean-Marie’s hands are everywhere, assaulting me with marauding familiarity. It’ll be anonymous and no-one will know, I tell myself with palpitating chest. What will they do? Air hostesses are always so immaculately made up. I wonder, too, what the adolescent casanova Jean-Marie is thinking, as he pins me down there helpless on the mattress, watching all this going on. I pause for just an instant or two, then start to pump in and
