"She took him to the living room and they sat opposite each other on comfortable arm chairs. Not having expected company, Jane was in a tee shirt and jeans, her long hair down around her shoulders. She couldn't help feeling a bit scared. She wasn't worried about being alone with Shaun, she knew she could trust him. But knowing the situation they were all in she feared he might be about to tell her that she and Mark had to leave, so he could rent the place to people who could pay the rent. But if that was why he was here, why did he not talk to Mark instead of her? Or, to both of them?Trying to buy time to settle her pounding heart she asked if he wanted a coffee. He asked if he could have a drink, a whiskey, and she fetched him one then sat down again, very nervous now, dreading what he could be about to say to her, without Mark knowing."I'm sure you know that I used to see prostitutes in my flat?" Yes Shaun, I have often heard them going past our house. Seen them sometimes too," she. I released my grip as Jenny continued her work. She removed the hair from his chest before moving on to the classic back, sack, and crack wax. I left Michael on his hands and knees, freshly waxed arse in the air, as I answered my phone. I gave directions, hung up, and before long a firm knock at the door. Marcus answered and showed James into the room. James was tall, black, shaven headed, and muscular. Through his too tight shirt his muscles rippled as he moved. I went to greet him and he embraced me tightly. The four of us fussed around each other for some time, almost completely forgetting our kneeling toy. Eventually I took James to him and watched as James inspected him. Poking his sagging belly, squeezing his flabby arms, all the while shaking his head. "This is James, Michael," I announced. "He is going to be your trainer. In case you hadn't worked it out Marcus is your tailor, and Jennifer your beauty therapist. I say they are yours but of course they are mine, Michael. They.
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