He pressed against her tango orange body, trying not to get her St Moritz all over his chinos. The sweet smell of orange WKD on her breath coupled with the unmistakable aroma of sure from her armpits was making his cock harder than Big Davy from The Rex Bar and by fuck, big Davy was a hard man. Her wee freshly bleached smile reflected off the mirrored ceiling as she lay back on his Burberry checked duvet. She took a long drag of her Mayfair Superking, spread her legs wide and slipped her hand down her Primark printed knickers. Two flicks of her bean and she was wetter than a spastics chin. She whispered in his ear "I hope your dicks bigger than your Da's ?"