It's been a few months since the last chapter of my "Last Rodeo" stories, mainly due to the erectile dysfunction that has regretfully befallen me. I really thought that my hedonistic days were over. After all, I was at the wrong end of my sixties, and the foursome with my wife Linda, her friend Judy, and our mutual well-endowed chum, Bob, was going to be a hard act to follow. Oh, how wrong was I!

Difficult to know where to begin. Let me start by introducing a close friend who has known of my penchant for crossdressing for over thirty years. Bob's estranged wife, Fiona. A very attractive sixty-two-year-old, fit, professional lady, who had, in the past, donated shoes, skirts, dresses and items of underwear to the cause.

Bob and Fiona have been separated for twenty years, and up until a few years ago, my wife and I had been seeing to her sexual needs, comprising of a few threesomes, where I've been dressed as Michelle. During these sessions, it became blatantly apparent that Fiona had a 'thing' for my wife, ergo Linda and I concluded that Fiona was bi, unlike Linda, who reluctantly participated only to please me.

Our services hadn't been required for the past two years, as Fiona has found a guy who fulfils all her carnal needs. He's 19 years her junior and, according to Fiona, "has an insatiable libido and a really big cock".

I say, all her needs, but a recent phone call from Fiona to Linda suggested our friend was missing some girl-on-girl action. The gist of the call was an invitation for my wife to join Fiona and her fuck-buddy in a threesome.

From my perspective, Fiona's 'indecent' proposal had its positives. My cock-loving wife would once again be able to enjoy the pleasure a hard cock would give her. And on her return, I'd hear all about it, as I supped the spunk from her used hole.

Linda and I discussed Fiona's proposal, and after some deliberation, Linda agreed, albeit with a modicum of reluctance, to join Fiona and her young stud.

Since my erectile problem, I've been unable to get hard. Viagra has been somewhat of a disappointment, and the only hard cock that Linda has had in the last couple of months was Fiona's ex, Bob. On those occasions, I have played the part of a cuckold, spectating as Bob filled my wife's cunt with his cum.

The day finally came for Linda to meet up with Fiona and the young guy who, in Fiona's words, was going to fuck Linda's brains out!

I helped my wife choose her wardrobe for the event. She looked stunning in her navy-blue polka-dot wrap-around dress. Underneath, she wore black stockings and suspenders and 3" high-heeled navy-blue shoes. I watched her sashay down our garden path and drive off to Fiona's home twenty miles away. I had never seen her so nervous. She had no idea what the guy looked like, and didn't even know his name. Her only solace was the trust she had in Fiona, knowing her pal would not put her in a compromising situation.

I waited anxiously for her return, and could only imagine the goings on inside Fiona's bedroom.

The hours passed slowly. Linda had been gone just over three hours when I saw our vehicle return.

"What the fuck!" Linda could hardly walk. Her hair looked like she had been dragged through a bush backwards, then dragged through again. She had a six-inch rip in one of her stockings.

"Pour me a drink, babe. " She was smiling, so I concluded that nothing sinister had happened. I poured her a large glass of Rioja.

"What the fuck happened!" I wasn't expecting the reply.

"I couldn't take him... He was too big!"

I sat speechless. In the past, Linda has described in great detail some of the big cocks that she's experienced, but nothing came close to Fiona's young buck, Mathew.

"We tried for three solid hours..."

I will, at a later date, post a full account of Linda's ordeal, as told in her own words, but it's MY story that I'd like to tell, and it was imperative that, to tell that story, it was necessary to give the reader some background relating to the characters involved.

My only communication with Fiona over the past couple of years had been on social media, consisting of conversations via private message. I had told her about my erectile dysfunction over a year ago, when my dick first failed to raise its head.

Fiona was surprised to learn that Linda had told me all about their ménage à trois. She described her version of the event, and it wasn't far removed from Linda's account.

One message in particular had my head spinning. It came out of the blue. "Would Michelle ever suck a cock? x"

I replied, "WTF!!!"

What I wanted to say was... "Yes! I sucked your husband's cock, a few weeks ago," but I bit my tongue. "What made you ask that? X"

When I "came out" to Bob and Fiona about my crossdressing, more than thirty years ago, I quoted the "lesbian trapped in a guy's body" analogy. Which, to be fair, was true. It wasn't until my mid-sixties that I entertained the thought of sex with a guy, and even then, it was just a fantasy in moments of self-gratification.

In the past, Fiona, in jest, had asked if Michelle had ever popped over to see to Bob's needs. I always laughed it off. After all, this was years before I actually did. I suppose you could say that she planted the seed.

"Oh! I just wondered x"

I wasn't prepared to let it go. "Why are you asking? X"

Apparently, she had told Mathew about the threesomes with Linda and me dressed as Michelle. She'd shown him photos of me, which I had messaged to her social media.

"Fuck!" "What did he say? X" I pushed for a response.

"He really fancied you. lol xx"

"Did you tell him who, and what I was? X"

"Yes, eventually. lol xx"

I had to ask, "What did he say? X"

"He was shocked! He couldn't believe that you were a tranny, and that you're married to Linda. xx"

I sent back a "Wow!" and three laughing emojis.

I felt myself blushing. "Thank him, for me. lol X"

"You can thank him yourself, if you like. xx"

"Fuck this texting! I'll phone you. XXX"

It had been almost two years since I had spoken to Fiona, and it was great to hear her voice. We conversed for about twenty minutes, during which time she did most of the talking. She told me about Mathew. He was married, in his early forties, and allegedly, blessed with a massive penis! So much so that his wife could no longer suffer it. She gave him carte blanche to find someone who could. And that someone was Fiona. They had met at their local gym. Fiona described him as an FWB... A friend with benefits.

They met once a week, on a Saturday afternoon, at Fiona's home, and for four hours solid, he'd fuck Fiona's brains out!
It took her three sessions before he was able to penetrate her fully.

Linda had her own theory regarding her inability to take Mathew's large appendage. She'd never had kids, unlike Fiona, who has given birth four times.

"Well, are you up for it?" Fiona sounded keen.

After a few seconds of thought, I replied with some sense of trepidation, "Yeah... OK." .

As luck would have it, the Saturday between Christmas and New Year was convenient for all. My wife had a festive get-together planned with work colleagues. Her itinerary included a train to the city, lunch, followed by a pub crawl and ending up at a themed pub with male strippers. I wasn't expecting her back before 10 pm. An afternoon rendezvous would be perfect.

All through my call with Fiona, my body shook with the thought of it all. She wanted to know just how much I knew about her threesome with Linda and her 'toy-boy'. I gave her a brief resumé of Linda's story, where we had a few laughs at Linda's expense. We briefly touched on my erection problem and how it has not affected my desire for sex.

Before ending the call, Fiona informed me that Mathew usually arrived around two, and suggested that Michelle should arrive around half-past. We exchanged mutual "compliments of the season" and ended the call.

"Oh fuck! What HAVE I done!!!" The anxiety tremors continued to shake my whole body. It was an hour before Linda returned from work, and I thought, "This is a good time to have a wank."

The following week, I didn't have much time to ponder my clandestine appointment with Fiona and Mathew, as my mind was 90% on Christmas.

We spent Christmas Day with family, exchanged gifts, and returned home around nine o’clock. We settled down on the sofa with a glass of sherry, intending to watch a Christmas Rom-Com. All was good in the hood.

My mind immediately shot to Saturday. What was I going to wear... a dress, or a skirt and blouse? And stockings, obviously. I then pictured Linda's wardrobe and mentally picked out some of the items within. Linda broke my train of lewd thoughts when she handed me her glass. She leaned over the side of the couch and retrieved a Christmas carrier bag,

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart!" Linda passed the bag to me.

"What's this! Aww, babe. You shouldn't have!"

Inside the bag were several small parcels, all neatly wrapped in Christmas paper.

I opened the smallest parcel first... A small box, containing a pair of clip-on, gold-coloured, hooped ear-rings. Next, a small pack of red false stick-on nails. There seemed to be a theme running.

My paranoia suggested that my wife was aware of my plans for Saturday. It only confirmed my suspicions when the next parcel revealed a pack of false eyelashes. Had I been talking in my sleep!

Had Fiona blabbed? I'd thought about telling Linda about it, but I didn't want her visualising her hubby getting pumped by a massive dick, while he buried his face into her friend's shaved pussy. It would have possibly spoiled her day out.

There were still presents to open.

A black mascara and an eyeliner pen. "Thanks, Babe! Just what I needed!" I remembered telling her that I was low on mascara weeks ago.

I kept the biggest parcel for last. "Oh! Wow!" I was delighted to reveal a pair of black, lace-top, hold-up stockings.

"Well, that saves me an awkward visit to 'Boots' tomorrow, during the busy Boxing Day Sales." I thought to myself.

Finally, Saturday arrived. Linda was up before me and was already dressed for her day out. She looked stunning in her shiny sequinned golden dress. I couldn't tell if she was wearing tights or stockings. I suppose that would have depended on her own plans for her day.

"Very festive." I joined her in the kitchen.

"Too much?" She posed as she twirled. "Too short?" She looked down at her knees.

"Honey! You look sensational."

Linda's lift was bang on time. She grabbed her coat and presented me with a couple of "mwahs" to avoid smudging her lipstick.

"Have a great day!" I meant it.

"Thanks, babe. You too... Tell Michelle that I was asking for her." And with a cheeky smile and a wink of her eye, she disappeared out the door.

"Fuck! She knows!" I spluttered on my coffee. I couldn't believe that Fiona would have broken our confidence, or perhaps she just knew that while home alone, Michelle would make an appearance and have a few girly hours all to herself.

I watched her from behind the curtain of the living room window. She beamed a huge smile directly at her driver before getting into the front passenger seat. I was expecting a car full of her colleagues, singing “Jingle Bells” with streamers trailing from the windows. What I saw was one unidentified male, driving off into the distance, with my hot-to-trot wife by his side.

I admit to having been mildly concerned that Linda might be having extra-marital activities, but then again, so was I.
Of course, it might all be innocent, and she was first on his list to be picked up. Whoever he was, they were not going to put a dampener on my afternoon.

I ran a bath and poured in a generous amount of Linda's scented bath salts. While the bath filled, I brushed my teeth before giving my face a thorough wet shave. Happy with my work, I lowered myself into the lavender-smelling water and gave myself a minute to languish in the moment, before carefully setting to work with a razor. Chest, cock and balls. I'm not a hairy guy in any sense, and I've never had to shave the soft, light hairs on my legs. I gave my ass-hole particular attention for obvious reasons and gave it a good "deep" clean. My ablutions were complete.

I moisturised my face and neck, and smothered myself with Linda's creamy body lotion. I looked at the blank canvas staring back at me in the bathroom mirror and took a few minutes to trim and shape my eyebrows.

Foundation, brow pencil, false lashes, eyeshadow, mascara, and eyeliner. I applied my new red lipstick and lip gloss and brushed pink blusher over my cheekbones.

I considered wearing the same dress that my wife wore on her visit to Fiona's a few months ago, just for the cheek of it, but decided against it. My legs are my best asset, and that dress covers my calves.

I delved into Linda's wardrobe and selected my outfit—a black polka-dot long-sleeved blouse, and a black leather skirt that sat four inches above the knee. I have my own 'special' underwear drawer, where I picked out my black high-waisted Lycra shapewear pants. Not the sexiest undies in my drawer, but they were selected for practical purposes, figure-enhancing, and their ability to conceal all my hanging out bits. My new black hold-ups and a black padded bra that I would normally bulk out with a pair of scrunched-up tights in each cup. On this occasion, I envisaged us getting down to the nitty-gritty, and tights spilling out of your bra is not a good look. I was more confident being a flat-chested Cougar, with an unfeasibly large clit.

It took about thirty minutes to dress. I put on my shoulder-length blonde wig and slipped into my size seven, 3" black heels. I gave myself a liberal skoosh of Chanel 19 to my neck and nethers. The alarm clock on the bedside cabinet intimated "13.05". I was on schedule. My fingernails were next up for attention. I applied the glue and fixed the red glossy plastic nails to their designated finger. Just my earrings to clip on, and my transformation was complete.

I eyed up my reflection in the mirror. "I would fuck me!"

Rain was forecast for what was a cold December afternoon, and Linda's black leather coat hanging in the hall was the ideal garment for my journey.

I'm always extra cautious leaving and returning home, ever mindful of curious neighbours seeing a strange woman speeding off in next door's vehicle. The coast was clear.

I spent the half-hour drive contemplating what lies beyond, occasionally interrupted by the mental pictures of my wife with her male colleague. Was he the workmate who featured in her more recent fantasies, that she'd shared with me?

I pulled up behind the one vehicle parked in Fiona's driveway. After a quick tidy with a hairbrush and a close inspection in the vanity mirror, checking my teeth for any residual lippy, I felt ready for whatever was in store. I popped a couple of minty 'Tic-Tacs' into my mouth, grabbed my hand-bag and exited my vehicle.

As I walked up the garden path, I felt the thrill of a cold December blast of wind blowing up my skirt, chilling my bare thighs. Before I had a chance to ring the doorbell, the door opened.

"Hiya you!" It was Fiona. She looked radiant. She had recently celebrated her 62nd birthday while on holiday, and her sun-kissed skin gave her a striking smile; her teeth flashed bright and white against the richness of her tan. Standing there, she defied her age by more than ten years. "Fuck! You look amazing!"

My first impression of Fiona was how hot she looked in her red leather mini-skirt. The same skirt that I'd worn a few years ago while she was on holiday, and I was asked to pop round and water the houseplants.

"Hello you, Merry Christmas!" I kissed her on both cheeks.

"You have that walk off to a tee, girl!" She giggled. "Those fucking legs!" She mockingly swaggered her hips as she led the way down the hall to the kitchen. I followed her with eager apprehension.

I took the opportunity to give Fiona a once-over. She'd put on a few pounds, but it suited her. Her chestnut-brown tresses cascaded down the back of her black sheer blouse. Her black stockings had a glossy sheen, and her black 4" high heels exaggerated the length of her shapely legs.

Fiona turned to face me as she entered the kitchen. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

I was a few paces behind her. I took a deep breath and entered the kitchen.

"Mathew, meet Michelle... Michelle, meet Mathew."

Mathew stood at the kitchen sink holding a tin of beer. He was no Brad Pitt, but then, I was no Sharon Stone.
His hair was dark, short and neat. He was also tanned. I deduced that they'd been on holiday together. He wore denim jeans and a thick lumberjack shirt over a white T-shirt. He laid his drink down on the kitchen island.

"Hello, Michelle!" Mathew approached me, arm stretched out, offering me a hand.

"Hi!" I replied softly and took hold of his hand, expecting a formal handshake. I was taken aback when he pulled me in and held me close.

He proceeded to plant a kiss on my lips. "An icebreaker. I just thought I'd skip the awkward bit." His smile displayed good teeth. He inhaled around my neck. "I love your perfume."

I spluttered a "Thank you." I felt the hint of an oversized appendage, drooping languidly against his left thigh.

"Give her a proper kiss, for goodness sake!" Fiona was clearly loving the scene in front of her.

He didn't need telling twice. Mathew gave me a firm squeeze and presented his partially open mouth towards mine.

There was something irresistible in his cologne. He pulled me closer. I could feel a bulge through his jeans as he pulled me tight to his groin. It was like our tongues couldn't wait to meet. I could taste the alcohol inside his wet mouth as the French Kiss lasted what felt like a couple of minutes.

Mathew broke our snog to comment, "Well, that's the ice well and truly broken."

My wife had described Mathew as plain. After seeing him, I felt she was being a little harsh. I was beginning to find his smile captivating. Fiona noticed my coy smile. She smiled back, from behind her wine glass.

Mathew helped me out of my coat and took a step back. He looked me up and down and shook his head. "Fucking amazing legs, babe." He lifted his glass. "Here's to two lovely ladies."

"Did he just call me babe!"

Fiona asked if I wanted a soft drink, as I would be driving later. I opted for a diet Cola and stood by the kitchen island. Fiona sat on a high breakfast stool beside me. She stroked the top of my thigh with her fingers. "So, what has our Linda been up to?"

I recounted the events from earlier in the day.

"She's definitely fucking him!" Fiona was in no doubt. She said it matter-of-factly. "Mathew and I were having a chuckle before you arrived."

I responded with a vacant expression.

Fiona continued. "When I suggested our ménage à trois to Mathew, he asked to see what you looked like, so I sent him some of your Facebook photos... Aaand, I went to bed, forgetting to sign out. And to cut a long story short. I caught Ritchie knocking one off, to one of your photos."

I gasped! "What!!!"

Fiona had got up for a drink of water in the early morning and spotted her thirty-five-year-old son sitting at her laptop, having a wank.

"He was wanking off, whilst looking at my photo?" I needed confirmation. I wanted to ask, "Which photo?" but that wasn't the issue.

"Yes! He was really going at it."

Now, I had to ask. "Which photo?" I'd sent her a few over the years, and some of them were pretty raunchy.

"I think it was one of you lying on your bed, on your side. You're wearing Linda's blue polka-dot dress. I think it was the dress she wore when she was last here."

"Oh! yeh!" I remembered the session. Linda took the photos. "Fuck! Not the one with my cock in my hand!"

"Hahaha..." Mathew almost choked on his beer. "I saw that one! She kept it for the big finale. I had no idea, until the big reveal."

Fiona laughed. "I don't honestly know! My view was restricted."

"So, what did you do?"

"Nothing. I just left him to it and went back to bed."

All three of us giggled together. Once normality resumed, Fiona motioned for us to move the party upstairs. "Shall we?"

As we ascended the stairs, I couldn't resist... "Will Ritchie be joining us?"

Ritchie's mum was unappreciative of my quip. "Haha... Fuck off!"

Her son Ritchie was back living with his mum after falling out with his fiancée. He was attending a friend's wedding and was not expected back until late evening.

I followed our hostess into the bedroom and joined her at the foot of her bed. Mathew entered and closed the bedroom door behind him.
Fiona shuffled up to me and began kissing my neck. I watched it all happening in the full-length mirror wardrobe. I could see Mathew in my periphery. He had removed his padded shirt and had loosened his belt.

I felt Fiona's hand slide beneath my skirt. I let out a breathy gasp as she stroked my stocking tops with her fingernails. Mathew's eyes were firmly fixed on mine. He dropped his jeans to the floor and slid his hand down under the elastic waistband of his shiny white boxers.

Fiona had worked her way up my thigh, her fingernails lightly scratching the bare skin above my stocking tops. I caressed one of her breasts over her blouse. Our lips met softly, both of us mindful of smudging our lipstick so early in the proceedings.

Mathew sauntered over to join us. His hand was still inside his shorts, gently rubbing his semi. It wouldn't be long now before the great reveal. He took up a position to form a small huddle at the foot of the bed and withdrew his hand from his pants. Fiona withdrew her hand from my thigh and pulled my hand from her breast. She guided it down to Mathew's boxers and left it there. She knew of my unhealthy obsession with cock size and waited to see my reaction on discovering the magnitude of Mathew's cock.

I gripped what felt like a fillet of raw steak through the shiny fabric of Mathew's shorts. It was still hanging south. So far, the mythical tale surrounding his appendage was already living up to its legend. "OH MY GOD!" I looked into Mathew's eyes and gave his cock a firm squeeze. He was definitely firming up. I was going in.

Fiona's hand was back under my skirt, groping around the crotch of my tight girdle pants, while Mathew teased her pussy with his fingers.

I slipped my hand inside Mathew's boxers and felt his smoothly shaved groin. Mathew's cock twitched in my palm as its development continued.

I pulled his shorts down and let them fall to the floor. The sight of Mathew's cock caused me to gasp.

"Oh! Fuck!" It was enormous! My wife's description did not prepare me for the shock of seeing such a glorious specimen of manhood. My dropped jaw expression was picked up by Fiona, who gave me an "I told you so!" look.

I dropped to my knees and took a firm grip halfway down his shaft.

I was joined by Fiona, on her knees. She massaged Mathew's balls while I licked up and down and around his thick length.

We continued to suck and lick on Mathew's rigid cock, occasionally holding it up, to give attention to his balls and undercarriage. I noticed that his purple tip reached way past his belly button! I was also aware that Fiona had two fingers up inside his anus. His body shook in ecstasy. I felt it was time for me to get my mouth around his colossal dome.

I could only just manage to fit his purple cone inside my willing mouth.

Fiona continued to wank Mathew off, while I sucked for my life. I tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum and proudly showed it to Fiona, on the end of my tongue.

My man-clit was severely restricted, compressed under the elasticated fabric inside my tight girdle pants. Fiona noticed my futile attempts to relieve my discomfort. "Take them off."

I clambered to my feet and motioned for her to pull my pants down. Which she did with a struggle.

Fiona had a firm grip on my man-clit. Her other hand gripped Mathew's hard-on. She put his cock against mine and began rubbing them together.

It had been over a year since I had enjoyed a stiff erection. The sensation of Mathew's cock grinding against mine was exhilarating. His breathing was heavy and erratic. He was clearly enjoying the feel of my cock rubbing against his as much as I was.

Fiona began to lick and suck on both our cocks while Mathew slurped around my lips before sinking his tongue deep inside my mouth. His groans of pleasure signalled that an orgasm was imminent.

"No, no! Not yet, honey. I want you to shoot your cum inside me." Fiona rose to her feet and lifted her red leather skirt to reveal the smooth skin of her shaved pussy. She let go of my meagre effort and turned around to lean over the bed. She spread her legs and invited Mathew to enter her pussy from the rear.

I watched as he took hold of his huge shaft. He nodded for me to assist. I was only too eager to oblige.

I pictured the scene, when only a few months ago, my wife was in a similar situation, when Fiona attempted to coax Mathew's behemoth dick inside Linda's moist hole. And now, here I was, playing my wife's part in this surreal ménage à trois.

Fiona's black void glistened with her vaginal juices, eager to receive Mathew's rock-hard shaft. As I guided his hard-on towards her cunt flaps, he took a firm grip on my hard 6" clit. He turned his head and looked straight into my eyes, and began to wank me slowly. I bit down softly on my bottom lip and squeezed his cock, while guiding its pulsating purple head into Fiona's wet hole.

Fiona gasped as Mathew gently pushed his hips forward. I witnessed his dome disappear as he slowly penetrated her slit.

"Oh, Fuck! Fuck!" Fiona's profanities were pleasurable. She began to push back, encouraging Mathew's cock to be swallowed inside her wet black void.

Mathew was halfway in, when a faint ringing could be heard coming from downstairs.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! No!" Fiona's frustration was felt by all.

"Ignore it, babe." I seconded Mathew's emotion.

Now, one of Fiona's more angelic foibles is her overindulgence when it comes to her kids. They're all young adults now, but still extremely needy. When called upon, the 'Bank of Mum' had bailed them out on many occasions.

"No. Sorry. I'll be right back." Fiona pulled back from her position and made to exit the room. "Keep him warm, Michelle." And with that, she left me alone with Mathew and his unfeasibly large penis.

Mathew began kissing my neck and biting on my earlobe. He manoeuvred me into a position where one push was enough for me to fall back onto the bed. He pulled my skirt up and gently lay on top of me, and once again our cocks came into contact.

Mathew began grinding his body against mine. He whispered into my ear, "I'd love to fuck you proper."

I responded with a consenting groan while thinking to myself, "Well, that ain't happening, big boy."

His moaning became guttural as he bucked and grinded his bare torso against me. I reacted accordingly by raising my backside to press hard against his groin. The kissing had become feral. Like two caged beasts, finally let loose.

"So where are you exactly?" Fiona was back in the room, still on her phone. She appeared distressed as she sat down on the bed.
"OK, son. I'll phone you back."

The grinding came to a grinding halt.

Mathew rolled off onto his side. I could feel the full length of his shaft against my thigh. "Everything OK, babe?"

My face showed concern, but internally I was selfishly disappointed that my dry fuck was rudely interrupted.

"It's fucking Ritchie!"

I have known Fiona and Bob's son Ritchie since he was five. Linda and I had frequently babysat Ritchie and his three older sisters while their parents enjoyed a date night, and even over a couple of short weekend breaks.

Fiona filled us in on her predicament.

Apparently, Ritchie's fiancée was also a guest at the same wedding, and she had brought a 'plus-one'. A huge row broke out, and her boy was thrown out of the venue.

"And now he's out in her street causing a nuisance of himself."

"Oh! That doesn't sound good." Mathew's empathy sounded genuine.

"No," I agreed.

Fiona sat silent for a minute, deep in thought.

"I'll have to go and get him."

My self-centredness knew no bounds. All I could think about was resuming making out with Fiona's fuckbuddy while she went on her rescue mission.

"You've had a couple of glasses of wine, remember," Mathew reminded her.

"Oh FUCK yes!" There was silence in the room while Fiona tried to come up with a solution. She shook her phone in the air. "FUUUUCK!"

Her attention shifted to me. "How would Michelle feel about picking him up? She hasn't been drinking!"

I sat up from my comfy lying position. "Me!" It was a half-hearted attempt at a protest. "He's sure to recognise me."

"Yeh! The cougar in the photo." Mathew laughed at his own joke. "It'll give him more wank fodder."

Fiona gave Mathew a disconcerting look.

In truth, I relished the thought. I'd had his dad, and his mum, it was written in the stars...

To be continued...