Remember the old fairground hammer and bell?  Hit hard enough, the weight flies up setting off a satisfyingly loud clang.

Are you an arse man?  Boobs, maybe?  Feet?  Well, those of you who know me will be surprised to hear that, walking through the park, I spied the most gloriously beautiful legs I’d ever seen; up went the weight, clang went the bell, all other thoughts erased.

She rose.  Mesmerised, I followed those legs into a hotel, and, like an obedient slave, the room.

Lying on the bed, skirt up, knickerless, my lover chortled, “What is it about these legs?”