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Yet she was so controlled, so 'matter of fact', especially when she added in the most authoritative way, 'eat'. I felt I had no choice. Then she continued to talk, this time moving on to films. She knew them all, reminding me of the beauty of Scarlet Johannsen as she sat in her knickers in that hotel room in Japan, or the scene in the Marlon Brando film where he puts butter up the anus of his lover and fucks her. Last Tango? Then she described graphically such oldies as 'I Curious Yellow' and 'Emmanuelle' which she thought was ridiculously censored, but she has an unabridged copy. She asked me about my tastes and that is when I felt incredibly sad. I could not explain it, but realised that you and I had not been to see a film or even hire and sit in front of the Plasma Cinema for so long. She saw the change in me and proceeded to enact a scene from some obscure French film (well, obscure to me at that time), where the heroine - a waitress in a restaurant - undoes her blouse in front of a customer then proceeds to caress her breasts for him regardless of all the other people there. She took her large tits in both hands and kneaded them, letting her tongue lick and dart around her mouth. She was tugging at the teats, pulling them far out from her body. I could see etched in her face some pain and yet mixed with it intense pleasure. She was panting and sighing, eventually forgetting the script of the film and telling me all the things she wanted to do to me and me to her. Saying how her husband's cock was so beautiful but how she wanted him to pleasure her arse as she sucked on my cock. I could see she was capable of orgasm just from the caressing of her tits and was mesmerised by her actions. I sat there, immobilised, hard and aching to reach across and touch her. Always though something held me back so far, for all the games we had played at that table."

"So what the fuck held you back?" I asked, showing some frustration that he had broken the tale to confess some probably pious thought.

"I thought of you and felt guilty."

"You fucking arsehole!" I shouted in a most undignified way.

He looked crestfallen. Suddenly Johnnie was back in the embarrassed but this time thoroughly despondent camp. I'd gone too far. How was I to get it back? Of course, he had got through that stage if Ludmilla (their maid and confidant of my maid) was right.

"Sorry darling, it's just that so much has changed in me and I'm forgetting that it's not as simple as turning on a switch, so how did you end up getting buggered and buggering for that matter?"

"Well it was weird at first. She seemed to be able to pull herself together out of her orgasmic stupour and continue the conversation as if nothing had happened. We talked about more films, some extremely bizarre like Barbed Wire Dolls and Destricted, to comedic such as the Tinto Brassi series including All Ladies Do It and Cheeky. I remembered that last one as you and I had been taken by the heroine walking without panties over the park that is outside our house. Remember how I tried to get you to reenact it for me? I told her about that and she said how much she'd like to get into your knickers. That set me off saying 'you'd be lucky' as even I can't go there often! She laughed at me and said I was just going about it wrongly. Before I knew it, she was coaching me in how I should do it to her."

I was part angry and part aroused that (a) she had been told I was effectively a frigid bitch and (b) that she was excited by the idea of getting into my panties. And now I was even more curious and not a little aroused to know what happened to change my Johnnie into the pervert he'd obviously become.

"So how was that?"

"Well, by this time we had eaten the main course and she cleared the dishes, still bare titted which was marvelous.