Chapter 2: Chapter 2

After I’d got over the disappointment of learning his wee favoretto had nothing whatsoever to do with the contents of his rugged, manly trousers, I was ready enough to say yes. My own little flat, while of course the very zenith of style, had seemed a little lonely of late. Perhaps I should get some fishies of my own? And Bill has, after all, very few dirty habits, and all of them ones I approve of. Plus it gave me an excellent opportunity to live in his flat, watch all his DVDs, and sleep in his bed. What? I’d change the sheets before he got back.

He favored, I found, the gentler sort of porn, and his sheets smelled warm and woodsy.

They smelled of something else after I’d been in them for a night, but c’est la vie. I spring-cleaned his cupboards to atone for any little stains I might have left on the mattress, and then I set off to work. Another tiring day of hawking divine creations of leather to the undeserving public and their ill-kempt feet.