We went home to Bangatan.
Since I started work at Volvo in September ’85, a young designer Hasse, had joined our work group. He was from Lund, in the south part of Sweden, and was looking for accommodation, so as I had a spare room, I agreed to let him share at my apartment until he found himself somewhere else.
This worked out fairly well, and it was expected that either party would “disappear” when the other bought home guests of the opposite sex. As it was, when we got to the apartment,Hasse was in bed so it was no problem.
After coffee and niceties’ we found ourselves in the bedroom.
With the usual performance of: manic fumbling, buttons that wont undo, zippers that wont go down, bras that wont unclip; I realised that Kristina seemed to be deliberately making it difficult for me to undress her.
I stopped. Looked at her
What’s wrong. Do you want to, or not
Yes. She was panting, as though out of breath. I tried again. She still squirmed ,resisting me. I sat up.
Do you have any rope?
Do you have any rope!?
No, I don’t. What do you…..
Have you got a belt?
Yeh, of course I’ve got a belt.
My penis had now withdrawn. The turtlehead retracted
Tie me up
With your belt, tie me to the headboard!
Small snippet of my forthcoming "Notes of a Jobber" to be released in Spring