He was an old man, frail and unsteady. The few other passengers on the local train, watching as he tottered to a seat, may have felt some concern for him. Sallow faced and feeble he was truly a candidate for public sympathy.

Sitting back in his seat, as the carriage doors closed, and the train jerked into motion on its circuitous route, old Harry Dayton, felt a spark of weird excitement. This would be his first journey on this line for many, many years. Once it had been his, daily, mode of travel, and he was pleased that he was close to the window enabling him to view the passing scene. How much of it had changed? How much would he remember?

Remembering was the main point of this journey. Observing the pitying glances of other passengers, he had allowed himself an internal smile. What would they think if they knew what thoughts played in the mind of this poor old guy? Would they believe that they were looking at a man who, back in his twenties, had prided himself on his success with women.

Crazy? Were his expectations really so crazy? Were they really the overreaction of a senile mind? No, he was free to roam through memories in any way he wanted. Where had he noticed the route map of this line? All he remembered was the way certain station names brought on a flood of vague erotic memories. He had this last chance to relive some of those memories, each in its own way different from the norm. He just had to make this trip, even if the station were not in strict chronological order.

He was no longer a well man. His doctor had warned him about taking unnecessary risks. But what was the risk in reliving happier times.

"The next station will be Farville," a female voice came over the loudspeaker. Harry gazed at the passing range of back gardens, some immaculately tended, others a jungle of undergrowth. Farville was not one of the trigger stations for him, but he remembered how this current stretch had just been fields over sixty years ago.

Harry was almost ready for the next announcement, "The next station will be Cattergate." Yes, Cattergate, a memory that was furthest back

He had been to a birthday party, drink had flowed, and hadn't he missed the chance to get inside Brenda Brand's panties? She had leaned into him, asking if he wanted a kiss or 'something'. Why had he refused? No memory of what had diverted him. Within minutes, it seemed, he had spotted her climbing the stairs being fingered by a lad called Malcolm, who he'd never liked. Missed opportunity.

He'd only just caught the last train. The carriage hadn't been very full, but at Cattergate, where there was a large council estate, everybody else had got off, and he thought he would have the carriage to himself. He was just worrying that, in his drunken state, he might fall asleep, when a young woman just managed to squeeze through the closing doors.

That woke Harry up, for, in just a few seconds, he had taken in the good looking face, the blonde hair and the exquisite figure in a thin blue summer dress. To his utter amazement, after a momentary pause, as she viewed up and down the carriage, she came and sat opposite him. Why? That was the first thought on his mind, as she gave him a slight smile.

Harry tried looking out of the window, where the only view was the empty platform.  "Been to a party?" she asked, her words slightly slurred. 

Harry muttered a weak, "Yes," while his eyes fixed on the fact that the top two buttons of her dress had come loose, and the beginnings of two generous curves were on display. The sight was a magnet for his drunken eyes.

“Get anything?"

“Drunk," he said flatly, trying to look at her face, but his eyes kept dropping to the cleavage.

She laughed, a nice sound. "No touchy feely?"

God, she was forward, this one. "No, none of that," he admitted.

The dark eyes widened in surprise, before she asked, “Yes, I've had a poor night that way, too. Like to change it?"

"What?" Before he could frame his uncertain query, she had moved to sit alongside him.

“Now," she said, a little huskiness in her voice, "would you like to put your hand where your eyes have been basking?"

 Harry had become a bundle of jelly, "I don't—" Once again she moved before he finished, as her hand grabbed his, and slid it into the opening of her dress, where the movement caused another button to pop. There was no bra, and Harry's hand, almost independent of his troubled thoughts, slid readily over the delightful orbs, savouring their delicacy.

“Feel good?" she asked. Harry looked up to see her eyes, despite her lascivious smile, clouding. "My God, what's that pressing down there?"

Harry had been very aware that he had become fully erect, almost at the first touch on her skin, now she gazed down at the bulge. Without delay, she was smoothing her hand over the mound. “Think he needs some freedom?"

Old Harry straightened in his seat as the train slowed and stopped at the present Cattergate station. As he looked toward the opening doors he could almost conjure the look of her again. The pale blue dress, the half revealed bosom, the cool, teasing smile, had him desperate to recover how their meeting went next, and it came to him so easily.

Her fingers tugging at his zip, had his breath heaving. She was going to touch it, feel it. His own fingers tightened on her breast. Continuing to lower his zip, her right hand moved to her dress opening. and she flicked at another button, so that the whole breast was free. Her face came close to his, her lips slightly parted, “Shouldn't we have a kiss?" she breathed, and her mouth so close, how could he refuse? Not that he wanted to.

The next second, their lips were meshed together, her tongue was playing over his, and along the inside of his cheeks. He had tongued girls before, but the sensations had never been so electrifying, so intense. But even as he revelled in the joys of the kiss and the fingering of her nipples, he realised her hand was inside his pants reaching for his wildly erect cock.

As soon as her fingers closed around it, drawing it free of his pants, Harry feared that he might lose control under her eager handling, but it was she who broke the kiss to gasp, "Jesus, what do you have here?" And she was staring, wide eyed, at his purple-tipped hardness, that shining head ballooning out as she drew back the foreskin. Harry could not remember seeing it looking so bulbous.

“How many women has that been up?"

Harry hesitated with his answer. Maybe it was a partial truth but so what? "Only one," he told her, the whole truth was personal. That one and only time had been with Rita, very hasty, little foreplay, and as she parted her thighs, eager for his entry, he had shot his load all over her inner thighs, only just managing to enter her as his erection collapsed.

“One! With a glorious cock like that?" Her use of the word might have shocked him in any other circumstance, but she went on to ask, "How old are you?"

“Going on nineteen," he said.

“University student?"

He nodded, and she gave him a determined look, before saying, "Well, excuse me, but you could do with some further education." Without any more words she lowered her head to take his swollen cock directly into her mouth, pressing down so that he felt the head hit against the back of her throat.

Harry had heard about this, had read about it, but never had his cock been in a woman's mouth Then she slid her mouth back and forth along his length. God, it was fantastic. Harry feared that he would be shooting within seconds, but maybe it was the drink he'd consumed that held him back.

Briefly drawing her mouth back, she gasped, “Put your hand between my legs. Find my spot. Feel me. I'm ripe for it. And pull my panties down."

This, in a train carriage? Harry could not believe it. They were in motion again. How far to the next station? What if someone got on? He found that she had moved her left leg, way back so that her legs were totally parted, and two lower buttons had loosened. Only one could be holding the dress together.

As her mouth continued its elaborate performance around his cock, his fingers slid over the wetness of her silken panties. The whole of her nether body was soaked. He was amazed how easily the panties came down. Then his fingers were roaming that fantastic crevice, front to back, touching on what felt to be a very ready hole, hearing her grunt at that.

He knew the clit was a big turn on for women, but it was not always easy to find. One girl had shown him how to find it, had orgasmed heavily, but was keeping the final act until she was married. So, he knew where to probe, and with this lady it took no finding. That little nub was up and proud, and the moment he touched it, her mouth came away from his cock, and she was gasping, "Oh, God, I've got to have this creature inside me."

Her actions pushed Harry to one side as she lay back on the length of the seat, drawing him back on top of her. She reached for him again, panting, “I've had some cock in my time, but this-Oh, quick, inside me, before we get to Forkton."

Harry had been worrying about the next station, but this lady was clearly positive and sure of herself, and here he was poised to have a real full entry into a woman. For some reason he wasn't worried about what might happen if it was like with Rita, because this lady already had him poised at her entry, and all he had to do was push.

Already her hips were thrusting and the moment he entered her, she gave what was almost an animal howl, and bucked and heaved under him. Moving up inside her was a wonderful sensation for Harry, wetness, heat,   the frantic motion of her hips, drew all he had out of him so that, as she hit her high, he was pouring his juices deep, deep into her, his cock head striking her cervix.

As they lay panting the train began to slow. In those days there was no announcer, and the lady eased him aside, pulling at her panties, fastening up her dress. "Better put that away," she laughed, standing, only slightly dishevelled, as the doors opened. She leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips, before saying, "Thank you, for making my evening. I wish there could be more."

This was her stop? Harry couldn't believe it. She was gone, and the doors closed. For a brief second as the train pulled away, he saw her walking away without a backward glance.

Old Harry found that he was panting heavily as though he had just carried out those long-gone activities. Worriedly, he glanced at the other passengers to see if they had noticed something strange about his behaviour, but they all seemed preoccupied. Later he had checked the time between Callergate and Forkton stations, and the whole episode with that unnamed lady could not have taken more than four minutes.

Watching houses and gardens gallop by the window, old Harry had to admit his surprise at how many aspects of that occasion had come back to him. The first time he had heard a woman use the word 'cock'. Time eventually would tell him that getting mutual orgasm like that, although possible, was never that easy. It all proved that this trip of memories was well worth the bother.

One thing was certain, after those few moments of delight, Harry's experience with the opposite sex blossomed. His confidence boosted, he   flinched at the egotistical thought that, gradually, he had become capable of giving so many young ladies something to remember.

The train began to slow, and the announcement came, "This station is Claver Hill." Harry jerked upright. Claver Hill, why hadn't he heard any earlier warning? The luxury houses? He peered out beyond the hoardings, beyond the first row of buildings. Still high class living. Even back then Claver Hill had been the estate where the rich folk lived.

This station was way out of sync in terms of his experience. When he first bought his car, he had taken a drive around this estate to view the grand entrance, the bold frontages, the mansions. It hadn't changed. Old Harry had to admit that this memory had less to do with the station and was more readily recalled from the estate name, Claver Hill

Younger Harry had been twenty four, he had his own flat by then, which he called a love nest, but it was rarely that. He had been generously promoted in his financial work, and was looking for opportunities to start his own advisory business. A second or third hand Ford Cortina was a step towards total independence. His experience with women had gathered force, and, just from the comments of his various successes, he was beginning to realise that he was, if not perfect, then a pretty accomplished lover. Oh, God, what an ego, old Harry told himself.

Lucky to have an above average length cock, was naturally, a help. But he felt he had developed other skills. So, it was that, on this particular evening he had driven down to an establishment, about two miles in from the coast. A five star hotel with a lavish bar area that was renowned for its top grade clientele. Would it be possible for him to test himself, and see if he could charm a real high class lady? Would his confidence carry him through such a conquest?

On entering the bar, all high chandeliers, velvet drapes and matching furnishings, a stylish lady immediately caught his eyes. She was seated alone at a table near the door. Wearing a black dress, with a lacy jacket over it, she was not exactly beautiful. Her blonde hair was pulled back flat and severe, tied in a tight bun at the back. Her brow was too wide, her lips too pouting yet parted in a slight smile, as her dark eyes returned his gaze. Yes, there was a definite appeal about her. Sadly, there was also a suggestion of sexual unavailability.

Harry approached the bar where he had spotted an old acquaintance alongside an older man, mid to late fifties, greying hair, quite distinguished looking. Harry had known Colin Langer since university, and knew that Colin had inherited his father's bookmaking business, which he had developed and was making a goodly living from.

Colin greeted him warmly, and introduced his companion as Desmond Corven, a diamond dealer. Phew, Harry thought, high class indeed. Maybe he was way out of his league here. However, Corven, seemed a fairly amenable character. Within minutes, Colin was telling Corven how, in their university days, Harry had been popular with the ladies. Harry was just a little annoyed Colin would raise that subject.

However, the diamond dealer leaned towards him, "You could be just the man I'm seeking. Have you had any experience with neurotic women?"

What a strange question, Harry thought, "Some," he said cautiously.

"And I assume you are out tonight hoping for a little adventure?"

“Well, yes, if it happens."

Corven was about to say something, but then looked past him, and sighed, "Ah, she's leaving."

Harry looked and saw the blonde lady in black. Now he could tell she was quite tall, slender and shapely, almost royal in the way she carried herself, as she moved towards the door.

“Do you think I could prevail on you to spend the evening with that lady?"

Harry could not believe what he was hearing. "But how? Why?"

Corven's eyes looked deeply into Harry's, and Harry noticed what a vivid blue they were. Glancing at Colin, Harry saw his head nodding. "That lady is extremely rich. Sensuous, but has a weird gap in her character. She only accepts incognito situations."

"What do you mean?”

Corven gave a gentle smile and slid from his stool, "Come, I will tell you more as we drive." A little confused and uncertain, Harry followed the diamond dealer out of the bar, after giving a farewell nod to Colin, who returned a smile, and held up a thumb. Whatever that meant. Comfortably seated in a top of the range Jaguar, beside Corven, Harry asked, "Where are we going?"

“The lady has a large house in Claver Hill estate. You know it?"

Harry told Corven he knew the estate. then asked about the incognito business. He saw Corven's face twist, "Sadly, she will only accept a man that she has never met before, and after that night, will never see again. No matter what happens. She should be loved by somebody on a permanent basis, but sadly with this perversity in her nature, this cannot happen. She is my sister, and I'd give anything to see her happy. Her demands are not daily" He paused as he stopped for a red light. "Quite acceptable demands. Maybe once a week, maybe a fortnight. She is no nympho."

Harry was longing to know if he was really being taken to this mysterious lady. From what he had seen of her, she certainly had allure. Corven stopped the car seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and handed Harry a black blindfold. "I have to ask you to wear this. Must keep her location a secret as your experience can never be repeated."

Harry put on the blindfold, and as the car started again Corven said, "I must advise you that the lady may be very slow to respond, but when she does it can be worth all your patience."

Harry was then aware of the car turning several corners, none of them far apart, so he guessed they were into the estate. At last the car stopped, and Harry was told to remove the blindfold. He found that they were in front of a large front door.

"I'll have the car here by one a,m. Just knock on the door, a gentleman will lead you to the relevant room."

The large oak front door opened and a formally dressed, grey haired gentleman welcomed him, and asked him to follow him.

Harry was dumbfounded by the grandeur of the place.

Tentatively, Harry opened the door, and entered more splendour. To his right a raised wide bed, with all rich cushions, and silken covers, dominated the room. Carpets under his feet felt about an inch thick as he walked over them. Seductive aromas suffused his brain, and he had never seen so many mirrors. They covered every wall. Large mirrors on either side of the bed, small mirrors dotted around the walls, where they mingled with what looked like erotic artwork. Seeing his own image all around him was only a little disturbing.

Without thinking about it, he slipped out of his light jacket and laid it on a chair, just as the lady entered from a doorway in the corner of the room. At first, he thought it wasn't the same lady. She had changed her dress. A pale blue satin full length gown, held by two thin straps over her bare, tanned shoulders, was low cut enough to reveal the teasing glimpse of her rising breasts which pressed against the satin. Her face told him that this was indeed the same lady, with that pouting mouth, and the dark searching eyes.

 But what struck him maybe more than the exquisite curve of her body in the tight fitting dress, was her blonde hair. From being tight to her head, it now hung wildly loose framing, and adding much sensuality to her face. It also removed his first impression of a wide forehead.

Had he earlier thought her not beautiful? God, with that dress emphasising every curve of her body, that thick cascade of corn coloured hair framing her face, she was totally stunning. Her lips now blessed him with a gentle smile. Was she really here for him to pleasure?

The thought both thrilled and saddened him. Would it only be one night? He drew a deep nervous breath. Nervous? After all his experience with women? How could he best please her? What was her desire, and could he deliver it.?

Knowing that he was wasting valuable time on just ogling her beauty, Harry took a step forward. Her waist was so slender that it emphasised the push of her breast against the satin. Her skin seemed to glow as he leaned in towards her. Her dark eyes maybe had a faint shine as they regarded his approach. Her lips were moist and slightly parted, and the mysterious aroma from her filled his senses. She said nothing.

Carefully, he placed his lips on the skin of her shoulders, and moved his head over their fascinating curve. How delicate, how soft her skin was. The straps holding up her dress were there, and how he longed to push them aside to allow the dress to drop from her breasts. No, what he longed for was to strip the dress from her completely. To reveal her whole body and its promise of rich, hidden delicacies. But that was not the way with this lady. Her very unresponsiveness was a challenge to his gentility, his amorous skills.

Placing his hands on her satin clad waist, he moved his lips onto hers. Her lips were cool, and she accepted the entry of his tongue without offering her own. Harry remembered what Corven had said, and indeed, her responses were slower than he could have imagined.

There wasn't one tremble, one reaction as his hands began travelling over her body, the marvellous breasts, the subtle waist, her amazingly flat belly, all encased in the erotic feel of satin.

She remained cool throughout, and that disregard in her manner drove Harry to greater efforts. His hands moving over her satin clad body, had informed him that underneath that layer there was only her delicious naked skin. He had never known a woman to remain so unmoved by his intimate ministrations.

They were still standing, and he guided her back to the edge of the bed, and she sat down. Harry knelt, lifted her feet and removed her shoes from her bare feet. He kissed and caressed those delicate feet, his hands moving up her bare legs, so smooth, so sensuous that he wondered how long he could stand the pressure of his own hardness.

Her gown, he discovered was subtly split to the knees, and this helped the passage of his hands along her wonderful thighs. Harry knew he was moving towards the smoothest skin on her whole body. Then he found that her thighs were not parted sufficiently to allow his fingers to make that journey to her softest, warmest, most secret area. He stood for a moment, looking down at her, and she gave that gentle smile in return.

He kissed her, with just sufficient pressure to make her lie back, and as she did her thighs parted slightly. Harry moved his hands all over her body, hoping that somewhere, somehow, he would strike a spark. In the whole of their contact not a word had passed between them.

His hands continued to stroke all over her. From her hair down to her feet, and back again. Every part of her should be alight, but there was no sign. On their journey, his fingers trailed up over her bare thighs, intending to make contact with her bush, but there was still a tightness in her upper thigh that debarred him.

Kissing her again, he saw that one of the straps of her dress had slipped down her arm. As he reached for it, she raised her arm so that the strap was released, and that side of her gown lowered to reveal the wondrous orb of one breast. With his mouth and teeth, he pulled the other strap down, and again, she moved her arm to free it. With just a gentle tug he pulled the dress lower to display both her breasts just as he had expected them to be, taut, pink tipped as though she were some adolescent schoolgirl. He kissed and licked both breasts avidly.

Harry thought about squeezing them hard to see if that could rouse any passion in her. But no, he had to maintain his gentle approach. He beginning to think that this was some kind of trick. Had he been given a gorgeous, docile, but frigid woman? An iceberg all of his own for the night? Surely not, the voluptuous lips, the silken skin, the constant promise of sensuality, could not be false.

In the mirrors that seemed to surround them he could see her bare breasts, her thighs slightly parted under her dress, and his own reddened face, as his hands caressed every inch of her. There was one more step he had to take. The gown had to come off. He needed desperately to lie against her naked skin.

He began to tug the dress down and was pleased to feel her raising her body to assist its passage. And that long awaited body emerged from the gown like some gorgeous butterfly coming from its chrysalis. Immediately, Harry was stroking and kissing every inch of her skin. He found her thighs parted sufficiently now for his fingers to dip into the exquisite mystery of her sex. Yet, still, it felt dry and unawakened. Harry had a surge of dismay.

Maybe he could moisten her with his mouth, he thought. Licking his way down her body, he parted her luscious lower, in preparation. But he had to stop just to savour the sensual sight, of her pink folds of flesh, those rose petals of love among the natural blonde hair, that wanted to curl on his willing fingers.. And it was at that moment that he was aware of the first quiver in her body. Her thighs trembled under his hands.

He heard her voice for the first time as she murmured, "Take off your clothes, please." Practically oozing his delight, Harry responded rapidly, pushing all his clothing away, knowing full well what effect his nakedness had had in the past.

And he was not disappointed. First, he heard her little gasp. Then he saw her face, mouth slightly open, as she looked at his erect cock which had become so hard that his desire was to touch it into her wet pinkness. She stopped him. As her hands reached to stroke, she stooped and twisted her body so that she could lick and kiss the large purple head.

What had triggered her? Was it just a build up of all his caresses? It had seemed that his gazing into her opening had reached something inside her. Now, because she was so avidly licking, fingering and sucking at him down there, he found he had those hot pink petals right in his face. He touched with a finger, the moisture intoxicated him, and then his tongue was tasting her, his nose relishing the aroma of her. More dizzying was the fact that his every touch was achieving some wild reaction from her, whether it was the twitching of her hips, or the sudden spasmodic bite of her teeth on his cock.

Without taking him in totally she was lavishing wild attention to his hardness and his scrotum, her fingers squeezing gently on his balls. Harry, as he licked at her risen clit, knew he didn't want to spoil the total magic by spilling into her face. More than anything now, his one desire was to shoot up into her womb, to get up as far as was humanly possible.

Consequently, he forced her away from his cock. But they had both become so avid with their mouths on each other that they continued mouthing over each other's bodies, sucking, licking and gently biting, while their hands explored other nooks. At one point, they even each had a finger in the opening to the others anus. And they both laughed. Such was their involvement.

At last she lay back flat, put her two hands between her legs and parted herself. There was a lascivious smile on her face, and her eyes appeared clouded with passion as she said, "Inside me. Now, please."

Believing that she, like him, could no longer wait, Harry guided his seriously stiff member into that de-luxe opening. The glide up inside her was beyond belief, and he could feel her muscles sucking him deep. Yet, another surprise, once inside her, where he had longed to be, he found himself enjoying the sensations provided by her eagerly pulsing channel, and jerking hips that he didn't want it to end. His movements became long and slow, and she did not appear to mind the slowing of pace. Her mouth nuzzled his ear as she whispered, "How lovely, just to have you enclosed within me"

So, calm was their movement that she gave time to indicate their reflections in the mirror. Harry saw their naked bodies sealed together, but even as he looked, her hips began twitching more frantically, and she cried, "Oh, God, I'm burning up. Work it."

Before he could do or say anything, she had eased him to one side without breaking their contact, and was sitting astride him, skewering herself on his huge erection, which Harry knew was not far from bursting. Her hands on his shoulders, her eyes on his face, her face gradually contorting, she began gyrating her hips so that Harry could sense every inch of her magical channel.

He had to explode, but knew he wouldn't get the deep, deep thrust that this ejaculation demanded. But that was the moment that the lady's control snapped, her head was thrown back, and she gave an extended gurgled 'Oh' of release, as her hands slid down his chest. That was Harry's chance to twist her over onto her back, to float over her, and thrust, thrust, and thrust again, ever deeper as, with each impulse, his cock spurted an ever greater surge of his cum, aimed for the very heart of her. His groan mingled with her continued but dwindling 'Oh' vocalisations.

Before collapsing with his face on her shoulder, he saw the wide-eyed look of pleasure on her sweated face, with strands of her blonde hair across it. They lay quiet, no talking, no movement until his limp member at last slipped out of her, and she reached for a towel that was laid ready on a bedside table. She placed the towel between her thighs, wiped, before sitting up, and taking hold of his cock with the towel, gripped and flexed her fingers.

"It was good," she murmured, and lay back beside him. They just lay there, but their hands seemed to find it difficult to stop stroking and fingering each other. Harry was expecting the session to be drawn to a close. He thought she might eventually rise, collect her clothes and move off. But that didn't happen. Their touching and stroking extended into kissing and nibbling, their lips came together, and their tongues tangled, and it was all very quiet and refined.

Her fingers tickling along his length had him realising the rise down there. He eased to reach down and touch at her lower folds, they parted readily, and there was much moisture. From their last endeavours? Or was it really a renewed desire?

In response to that thought, her fingers tightened around his cock, and as they faced each other lying on their sides, she lifted one bent leg away to spread herself, and slowly, deliberately she guided him back to her waiting entry. Harry was taken with both surprise and delight. He heaved his hips to drive hard into her, as he gently laid her on her back, where she raised her legs and wrapped them around him, so that she could reveal her desire to pull him more deeply into her.

With his hard cock sheathed inside her, Harry could have remained in that position all night. She kissed his face, as a very slow, rapturous rhythm began between them. Her hips moved in time with his. They were like that for a very long, rapturous time. Slow glide after slow glide. Pure pleasure. Then suddenly the rhythm increased, became more frantic. Her need? His longing? It didn't matter, they were rushing towards another climax together. When hers came, with that same open mouthed gurgled 'Oh', Harry wasn't far behind, and he pushed hard against her cervix, to ensure whatever fluid he had left flooded into her.

And the exquisite moment was over. At the bedroom door she stood, naked, and kissed him on the lips. No names were exchanged, no offer of a return. As he closed the door behind him, he heard her final whisper, "I won't forget that magnificent cock. "

That filled him with regret as much as pride. The car was there for him, and there were no questions or comments from Corven, as he drove him back to his own car.

Old Harry's eyes looked out at the passing houses. That had been such a beautiful one-off time, He could almost see that look in her eyes again, but, damn it, memory didn't just stop when you wanted it. There was another portion of that affair that he would have happily ducked away from—but no, it persisted. Harry sighed and gave in to it-

Just a few days after his blissful hours with that rich, passionate lady, Colin Langer rang him requesting they met in a local pub that night. Was it to be another erotic outing? As it turned out, no, it wasn't. Colin was smiling as they sat with their drinks at a quiet table. Before pushing a bundle of cash across the table. "Your percentage." Colin said, giving Harry a nod.

"What do you mean?"

“There are things you need to know," Colin said, and held up an open-

palmed hand. “First, the lady you were with was Corven's wife."

“His wife? What the hell? That’s not what he told me.”

 "It doesn't matter what he told you. He loves her madly, but an illness rendered him totally impotent a few years ago.  Knowing his wife had passions that rose to the surface slowly, he agreed that she could take other men. But he was the one who made that rule of no man twice. She didn’t have an affliction, only a strong natural libido. Corven always had final say on an acceptable man."

Harry could only just come to terms with this, "He said she was his sister."

"Would you have gone through with it if you knew the truth?" Colin paused, his eyes on Harry's face, "And he had to watch each time she had someone?"

Harry almost jumped out of his seat, "What? He was watching? Watching everything?" He thought of her mouth on his hard cock.

Colin nodded, "That's not all, Harry." And now his face took on a look that told Harry worse was to come. “You must remember they loved each other deeply, and agreed that some good should come from the situation. Corven had a hand in many charities and, to cut this short, when he watched, he charged others for the same privilege."

Harry felt as though his body was going to crumble. His mouth was too dry for him to speak.

“He charged two hundred per session. All proceeds to a charity. But the  man always got a cut, depending how much he pleased her."

Harry’s thoughts of the pleasure of that night were in tatters. He had put on a sex show. "How many watched?"

“Six."

Harry could not believe he had been so duped. How real had her responses been? “If it is any consolation I've never known Corven pay out so much before. Seems you really rang her bell."

Harry leapt to his feet, “Give him his fucking money back."  And, despite the balm of knowing her reactions, he stalked out, ashamed and angry.

On his train, old Harry was feeling just as angry. Why couldn't memory stop at the right places? Harry shrugged to himself now, as the world raced by the window. All so long ago. The train was moving away from the Fieldway station which had been his stop when he lived with his parents. Harry drew in a deep breath as he knew what lay ahead.

Only two more stations and he had little wish to savour the first one, but after that, came his real reason for making this trip. There would be the joy and delight of the real blessing on his life.