Incredible Lesbian Women

No way. I look horrified. I dismiss the thought as a crazed product of my overheated brain. I explain about the crowds, and how I’ve seen only couples sharing the bathrooms, for whatever reason. Now we pause, nervously. How old are you?” I blurt out. “Definitely,” I type. Emma is yelling, and Stefan’s grunts grow ever more guttural. “He’s with the Foreign Office,” I continue, much too pompously. My parents are divorced, and my dad travels all over the place. I’m not sure whether she’s taking the piss. Maybe they’re even hot. Maybe they’re younger? I saw an American ad the other day for “bath tissue.” Doesn’t toilet roll get all soggy when you float it in the bath? I’ve no clue how to flirt, as you can see without reading my confession.