Darlene Gillespie carefully studied the effect her apparent accidental flash of inner thigh and all points north had upon Gordons always telling expression. She was particularly pleased to see he seemed wholeheartedly to approve of her choice of a minuscule white lace thong that barely covered anything whatsoever. Gordon might have been once considered a handsome man. Before the six-inch gash down his left cheek and the commensurate stitching scars had severely disfigured his features. Even so, for his age, which Darlene estimated at being in the mid-forties, he was in prime condition, a fine muscular physique, always smart and presentable, famously unmarried or attached in any way, and with a salary that she knew was for some reason way above the average for a Home Office employee of his grade. Gordon presented a considerable catch.
The journey she and Joanna were taking this very moment had the possibility of providing some most entertaining illicit experiences, but she made a mental note to soon give Gordon a chance at fulfilling his carnal ambitions.