If I am ever to discover his full name, you will be the first to know it. Christian was uncharacteristically withholding about what sort of gathering it was to be, but his vague description hinted that a certain level of debauchery could be expected and I was intrigued enough to accept the invitation. When the day of the party arrived, we awoke late in the morning. Christian was even more amorous than usual and teased me so provocatively whilst I was attempting to dress that I eventually gave in to my baser urges, bent him over the bureau and gave him a quick, hard seeing to. I won’t go into detail here but it did us both good, as is always the case. Two hours later we emerged from the flat and made our way to that of young Mr. F., bathed, combed and decked out in our finery. Wolfgang’s address was not far from ours, so we opted to walk. Once more I tried to coax some information from my friend about who would be in attendance but all I got in response was a sly grin and a wink. “It’s seven o’clock. It’s a nice day outside.”We drank our coffee, then made our way downstairs. I made some toast, while Laura sat thumbing through the colour supplement. At this point we had no clue how we were going to spend our day.Out of the blue, Laura lifted her head from the magazine and announced, “Some of the West End department stores are having a sale this weekend. Why don’t we go? Grab a bargain.”By nine o’clock we had showered and were in the car driving towards the station to catch the nine-thirty fast train to London.Most of the morning was spent trying on clothes, giggling and squeezing into tiny changing cubicles. We did manage to snap up a couple of bargains, but with London prices, they were few and far between.We mooched through the side exit of a large department store and found ourselves in a narrow pedestrianised zone that ran between some older buildings of the city. It was then that we discovered a sex shop.This was no grubby, seedy little joint with porn.
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