Didn't Your Mother Tell You? - Part 33
Amy has a little too much to drink and becomes playful, something she comes to regret. But then all is made well again. “Model?” I heard myself saying. “Yes-s, pet—m-model,” Amy slowly repeated, slurring her words. It was Saturday afternoon. We had had lunch and Amy and Laura had consumed a bottle of Prosecco between them, with Amy having the greater part. Now, sitting side-by-side on the sofa, staring up at me, they had started a second bottle. I could tell from their amused expressions that they were in a teasing mood, Amy probably more...