She slid her finger into her depths with practiced slowness.The man’s cock jerked, as did its shadow. He moaned; Lena wanted to.Not yet. Ride the pl...teau.“Touch yourself,” she ordered him. She watched him fist his cock enthusiastically. His moan turned to a low growl.She dipped a second finger inside her wetness and her legs jackknifed together in unexpected spasm. He pumped at his shaft. A moment of mutual masturbation between two strangers, a spark of human connection as a dying world. This was years ago, when such things were more or less taken for granted. This woman wasn’t her, but I felt strangely protective of her.“Would you like a cup of tea?” I asked, and she accepted gratefully.Gamekeeper’s Cottage may well have been originally what it was called. It was certainly old enough and smelled of damp and centuries of airborne forest debris. It was decently furnished in an old-lady’s-house way, with bits of overlapping carpet that didn’t match and a settee too soft to sit on. More

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