I must have fallen asleep because the door opened and the creak of the hinges woke me up, “Fuck!” a bored female voice exclaimed, “There’s some pillock in here.” It was Sandra from next door, with fifty something bald fat git Clive Andrews from number 10 looking for somewhere warm and out of his missus way to have a fuck. “So like you were heard saying in the Pub,” Tony offered, “These two hanging by their balls by next Friday, I don’t care where, just hanging by their balls.”
“But!” I protested. Indian sex “Just doing it mind, not going out.” I suggested. “Been drinking Lads?” he asked. Clive was old enough to be Sandra’s grand dad but he was her dad’s boss so she kept him sweet if you understand, the dirty old bastard. “If you’ll hang Mr Andrews up by his bollocks,” she agreed.
