Bondage magazine

Probably, I should already be at school by now, but in fact I am waking up with Lenora. We hear a rustle and thud as something heavy drops through the letter box. Sleepy, lithe, and naked, Lenora emerges hot from the duvet and pads off to retrieve this new prey.

Addressed in a spidery black hand, the brown paper parcel is intriguing. Over a mug of tea, she undresses it, pauses, then begins to swear.

“That bastard! Fucking bastard!”

She passes me the contents – an explicit pornographic magazine featuring black leather and much flesh – and a note.

Thought you might like this. When we came round the other night, you sat opposite me with your legs spread wide so I couldn’t help seeing your cunt all through the meal. Next time, why not leave your knickers off entirely? Get in touch – you know I could blow you away.

And now, our gauche young selves co-write a stinging rebuke and rejection to this friend and mentor of mine.

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