She drank coffee and I switched to beers. She finally said "Have you noticed any difference?" I said "Certainly! Loads of pubs have closed, and office...blocks are now apartments, and the traffic is ridiculous!" She'd kicked her shoe off, and under the table, her toes now stroked my groin. "What else?"I didn't say anything but looked at her chest.She had shacked up with a guy with plenty of money. Unlike me, he hadn't been fascinated with her small breasts, and paid for bigger ones. Much bigger. Or insecurity. His fucking Catherine, and I use that word deliberately dear reader, was to reassure his frail ego and tenuous grip on reality that she was real and loved him and was his.Catherine would tell you that he was not always a compassionate lover. No, Dante was often not gentle and took his pleasure whenever and however he pleased. She would tell you he was mostly rough, indifferent to her desires and would angrily pound against her until he got his release, only then becoming tender.. More

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