It was early February, roads and paths covered in snow, the nights many degrees below freezing. We could, of course, and did meet over coffee and cake...in the warmth of a café, and we met like lovers of long-standing. Late in the evening, we again ended up, in shared frustration, in Erna's stairwell.We were victims of climate and the times. We had neither the shelter of a car nor the refuge of a motel. Neither could boys or girls from decent families bring lovers home for the night. Respectable. They were to go to his hotel room, not far distant, for "another drink." Neither knew exactly what kind of fucking would take place there, but both were sure, they would be well fucked. And Sharon was glad, for her body by this time was craving cock, demanding that she do something to ease the torment that roiled deep within her body.Sharon wasn't as drunk she usually was when she went cock hunting, for she wanted to savouring these stolen moments--moments when she didn't have to feel guilty. More

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