I have to ask.’ He held my gaze, his brown eyes locking on mine. ‘Why the fuck are you still a virgin?’ As I stared back, the unwitting aptness ...f his words sank home. ‘Well, here’s the thing,’ I said, my lips twitching as his own smile began, illuminating the dimples at the corners of his mouth. ‘Quite simple really. In order to stop being a virgin, you have to fuck.’ He nodded solemnly. ‘And why haven’t you fucked?’ God bless him, but he was making this easier for me, the coarseness of the. A local agent secured the property for us and, the matter resolved to our mutual pleasure and satisfaction, we returned to London and to Mistress Pickles. The day of our ‘marriage’ dawned and Maria and I were not allowed to see each other. I was an honoured guest in Mistress Pickles’ apartments and Jenkins and the seamstress attended to my toilette and my dressing. I wore fine silk bloomers such as I had never felt but on the highest born guest of the household. The fabric caressed my thighs. More

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