Her bare breasts jiggled delightfully as she rubbed a bar of soap over the honeycombed natural sponge. Her red-berried nipples jutted out proudly towards me as she smoothed the soapy sponge over my torso, dropping the cleansing item into the water after brushing it across the pit of my stomach.

Then she squeezed my stiffie, sliding her fist up and down the rock-hard shaft as she murmured: 'My, aren't you a big boy, Mister Andrew. Your prick must be near enough two inches longer than my boyfriend's and it's much thicker too.'

'Thank you very much,' I said modestly. 'But as I always say to any envious chaps in the dressing room after a game of footer, dimensions don't matter, it's how you use your equipment that counts.'

'That's true enough,' agreed Sally, cupping my balls in her hand and jiggling them up and down in her grasp. 'Still, I must admit that a nice big cock like yours does make me feel very naughty.'

Without further ado she went down on her knees and planted a slurping wet kiss on my knob. Then she washed me all over and, after soaping herself down with the sponge, we rinsed off the water and towelled ourselves dry. We used two of the set of luxuriously soft blanket towels I had purchased from the Army and Navy Stores, an admitted extravagance at 19/2'/4d but I do enjoy wrapping myself up in a large towel after a bath or shower.

When we had finished, I was about to shake a little Johnson's Powder over my body when Sally said hastily: 'No, no, don't do that, Andrew, come into the bedroom with me.'

I had no objection to this request although, quite frankly, I had no choice but to obey her command.