Viv closed her eyes, as Billy bounced up and down on her. They had been married seven years now, and this twice-weekly ritual held no excitement for her. She shuffled her feet to try and bare his weight more evenly, but it was still uncomfortable. He grunted, and lifted himself up on his arms, holding his breath. It was nearly over now, thank God. "Oh, oh!" she gasped with practiced realism. Then he exploded into her, grunting like a sweating animal, and his head fell onto her shoulder.

Alan was a real marketing professional. He had learnt it the hard way, not the way of the soft stupid kids he had to manage these days, with their bloody degrees and masters! He had left school and gone out and sold things, and he was bloody good at it! His philosophy in life was simple. If you played, you played to win! That applied to everything; to his golf, his driving, and even his conversation.

Brad tried to hold himself back, but he couldnt. Mollys coaxing fingers stroked the small of his back, and pressed his buttocks to urge him forward. He tried to think of other things, but couldnt. Nature took over, and he came. Mollys hands fluttered across his back in congratulations, and she squeezed him with her legs in triumph. He let his head fall onto her shoulder in resignation. He hated this.

Jordan reached across his chest, and played with her boyfriends budding breasts. She stroked the firm mounds, and playfully ran her fingers across his dark protruding nipples. She smiled. "Thanks for agreeing to share the breastfeeding with me," she said, kissing his ear. Share indeed, she thought to herself. He was going to do the lot if she had her way! No way was she going to let having a baby interfere with her social life! "Its all

Todd got home from school, and threw his bag onto the coat stand behind the door. He could smell the evening meal cooking from down the corridor. Dinner was going to be on time today. Good, he was going out tonight; going out with John to see if they could get some girls. "Come in here Todd!" he heard his mother calling from the kitchen. He winced at the tone of her voice. It sounded like trouble.

As I walked down the street from the station I wondered how I had got myself into this. Here I was, on a Saturday morning, heading off to the house of a girl I had fancied for ages, Anita. I should have been happy, and to a certain extent I was. But there was a catch; the reason I was going to her house wasnt for the moments of exquisite passion that I had fantasised about for two or three years.

When Princess was born she was given a body car, and she was happy. It took her a long time to get used to driving it; it took her a year to get it to walk, and even longer to learn how to make it talk. But she was happy. Princess lived with her Mum and Dad, and her brother. Mum was another princess, but Dad and her brother were both other ones. Princess loved them all, and they loved her. She soon got very adept at driving her new body car, and was pleased with it.

The three of them laughed loudly to hide their nervousness, and Jim pulled the door of the bar open with more force than was really required. Let the men inside know that he and his mates were strong, and let the women in there know that they were prime shagging material! It was still quite early, and the bar wasnt all that full. With practiced eyes the three of them stared around the room, homing in on any groups of girls that they could find.

Limp laughed, thats what really got to me. Limp actually laughed at me. I was incandescent with rage in any case, but him coming up to my room, and laughing at me was the last straw. I suppose it wasnt just cross with him, I was cross about the whole thing. Why had my cousin Chrissie decided that I would make a lovely bridesmaid? Why had my mother So there I was, trying on this hideous dress in what I thought was the privacy of my bedroom, when Limp came in and laughed at me. Limp lives next door. That isnt his real name, of course; his real names William, but we all call him Limp. Its a bit of a joke really.

Once we were back outside, I dragged him up the High Street at a frantic pace. My goal was the Chemist shop, more or less half way up. This was special only in one respect. It was a corner shop, with one entrance facing the main street, and, hopefully unbeknown to him, another leading onto a little side road that led off to the left. "Slow down!" he complained. "My legs ache walking this fact." "Were nearly there," I assured him. "Stop complaining." Eventually we reached the outside of the shop in question, and we stopped.