The bamboo pipe could be encouraged to give a low whistling note or two but music wasn’t really Gregg’s strong point. The rope was as dusty as the...turban had been. Its ends had been neatly whipped with twine and then waxed. Gregg uncoiled it. It was a couple of metres long but there seemed nothing remarkable about it.Gregg looked into the basked to see if there was anything else. Right at the bottom, it looked like there was some sort of magazine and, sitting on top of it, about the size of his. The numbing effects of the wine they shared with each moment added to her feelings of lust as she eyed little leather Janet sitting opposite her, every so often taking small sips of the wine held in her tight leather hands, taking a drag on her cigarette and blowing the wispy grey smoke out of her delectable red lips.“Seems we share a similar obsession or passion”, Angela replied. “You'll have to show me your collection some time.”“I'd love that.”As Janet and Angela continued in conversation,. More

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