"See, it's not just your tits I've thought about."
Steve didn't mince his words. "You're a lucky cunt, Gary." Steve and I were on the deck having a beer. We were watching Pat, my wife, pottering around in the garden. "It's frustrating," Steve said. "What is?" I knew what he was going to say, or at least the subject. "The way Pat's shirt opens, and I can't quite see her tits." "It's not her shirt, it's mine," I corrected Steve. Pat...Read On