Foursquare Part 2

" I crossed my fingers, hoping I could think up something plausible on the way.As we walked quickly back to Florian Avenue, the full and awful revelation hit me. It really was love, utter and genuine, but I could never be with the her, for more reasons than I could even begin to analyse! I found a sad solution, the lie I would tell her to excuse myself. If I was in love with a man, and not a girl called Sarah, and I told her that ... that I was in deeply love with Ed, my boyfriend, and found it terribly hard to be apart from him ... lovelorn was logical, she'd accept that. It would do for now.We half closed the sitting room curtains to cut out the bright summer sunshine, and huddled up together on the sofa. Now I had found a convincing fib, I was able be close to her again. She nestled into me as we lay side by side, and I told her how I felt. I laid it on just right, crying a little bit when necessary, letting her cuddle and comfort me without becoming aroused. Well, only a tiny. As soon as I'd met them I thought how sexy they were, very alike except for being older and younger, English but kind of Scandinavian-looking with pale fair hair and blue eyes. And now they were both in bikinis, leaving little to the imagination, both with shapely legs and tantalising boobs (the mother's were bigger). Before long I also noticed the girl who lived with her parents at number 174, sixteen doors up the road. She had long dark hair and looked a bit gypsy-like. She seemed to walk up and down the road quite a lot and regularly wore a short black jacket and tight blue jeans. The jeans were astonishingly tight and after walking up the road behind her I fully believed that the movement of her crotch was one of the sexiest things in the history of the universe. The mother and the daughter were always friendly but neither of them ever tried to seduce me and I didn't try either. It was just a pornographic dream that in a perfect world I would have shagged them as a pair. I never.
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