Don’t read this

The feel of his lips on her throat made her want to fall into a quicksand and vanish for ever

The feel of his hand on her shoulder seared through her like a mouthful of boiling tea had scalded her throat,

The feel of his arms around her went through her like the touch of a cat sleeping on her bare legs

The sight of his unshaven face affected her as much as if he were hitting her with a frozen dead cat.

He had less humour than a poisonous spider in a plug hole in the bath.

He tried to touch her heart but she was wearing too many layers..


He wanted to remove her pants but she knew they would not fit him

The feel of his thumb on her knee passed as fast as a burning Camel crossing a motorway on steroids

The smell of his Tweed jacket assailed her like the smutty grey fog in Liverpool in the 50s.

His grip was as fierce that of a female tiger with her cub.She felt wanted.Now she has killed him and she really is wanted by the police.

His strong warm hands reminded her of when mother changed her nappies 47 years ago.She never thought sh would feel like that again.

The feel of his tongue on her cheek was worse than a frost bite in Alston in a bad winter.

His shirt brushed over her bare skin like sandpaper on velvet.

What a rip off.

Sense the whence

Do not post as a boast

Do not lie about my pie

Do not count till the month is out

Do not weep when my buzzer bleeps

Do no harm,try to keep calm

Don’t grease my palm, massage me with balm

Evade no eyes, stop telling

lies

Don’t expect jam to be made from spam

Look for the lesson,L count your blessings

Life is brief, do not seethe