"Nice to see you again."

“It really is nice to see you again, Sitri.”

“Mmf.”

“Quiet, you.”

You and Arabella are in another hotel room, this time in the South of France. Arabella lies with her head on her chest, her arms around you, more than satisfied after another bout of passionate lovemaking. Her breasts are pressed against you, neither big nor small but pleasantly medium. You squeeze her round bottom and say “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“MMFF!”

“I said, quiet!”

“Mmf,” mmfs Meg, sounding grumpy. She’s tied to a chair in a corner, still in corset and stockings. Arabella made her travel all the way to the South of France in just those and her raincoat, flashing strangers from the window at every stop of the train. “Mmf mfff mf.”

“We don’t need any further input from you, I think, Meg. Outside.”

Arabella waves a hand. The curtains part, letting in the brilliant morning light of the Mediterranean, and the balcony door of your hotel room slides open. Meg’s chair, moving on its own, slides out the door. It comes to a stop on the first-floor balcony, overlooking the Esplanade below, which is full of curious tourists.

Meg’s final mmmfffff is cut off by the door slamming shut.

“Now, Sitri, where were we?”

“I was going to fuck you again, I think.”

“Oh, yes.”