Saturday, 31 December 2011

Signal Problems at Balham

A seat was suddenly vacated on the
crowded Tube and she plopped onto it and
winced then blushed as she looked to see if
anyone had noticed, perhaps guessed how
bruised her bottom was and what
pleasure she had gained from the pain, how
open it had made her, how
totally available.

The train grunted to a halt and a bored
London-Caribbean voice crackled that there was a
signal problem at Balham and the
carriage sighed as one, except her
remembering how she had given the
green light for her bum to be
beaten black and blue and had ended up
tickled pink.

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