1 Preparation


That is the thing about burglary, you can break into a crib, for instance a suburban home and net a television and a DVD player and for all your trouble you will net perhaps a hundred pounds or even less. Every day you have the same risk as a professional but the mathematics of chance will see you answering for your crimes in front of the magistrates in short order.

The alternative is to spend time researching and seeking the perfect target and net a few hundred thousand. Twice a year I place myself in danger as I cut the maths of risk to the bare bones, for the maximum profit.

I proudly belong to that second group who shun the small time opportunistic crimes and head for the large rewards of well planned and executed theft.

You have all seen the popular Hollywood films of thieves dressed like demented Ninjas who weave through laser alarm systems seeking the diamond of their dreams.

Well, for me, it’s not like that at all. Most of the time is spent leafing through catalogues of auction houses and museums looking for items that, for a few moments, will be poorly protected and vulnerable to attack.

Finding the buyer before the theft is another of the most important considerations, the same conscientious effort is expended in this direction as well.

Thus begins the preparation, the research and the waiting. Then there is the motion, the short burst of activity followed by the delicate matter of the money passing hands, before the theft is complete and the next bout of groundwork begins.

I would like to feel that I am an exemplar of my rather dubious trade. I am in and out like lightning but with months of hard planning work. That every mistake costs more than anticipated, could be the thread running through my story. The devil is always in the detail!

To cut a long story short I should perhaps bore you all with some background so that you understand what it is that I do for a living. You see, I am proud of my competence, but that skill mainly is in the organisation and I am always eager to boast of my strengths. This is the story of someone who found out my weakness and exploited it to the full.

The prize that I was after was a small Hu southern Song Dynasty vase. Not much to look at I suppose but to some collectors, priceless, or at least a price of hundreds of thousands of pounds. About eight inches in height, cracked glaze green-azure finish, one of the few existing without a chip or scratch. Value between a hundred thousand and two hundred thousand. In other words two hundred grams of pottery worth a thousand pounds a gram.

Well, I saw it in the Huntford collection art and design exhibition in Manchester where it was under glass and alarms that are simply impossible to bypass. But I knew that the owner of the collection was going to split it and sell.

You see the Chinese are getting rich and they are buying up all the Chinese items that went astray when the French, British and Germans forced the emperor into submission a couple of hundred years ago. Believe me when I say that prices are going up and the sky is the limit.

So I photographed the vase, posing as a collector and had a superb replica made in Derby. It might seem a simple thing to do but there are very few artists in pottery and glaze that can copy this kind of thing, using original methods and materials. That undertaking took weeks of impatient waiting as the Huntford collection finally came up for sale. For a few days I thought that I would end up as the proud owner of a copy that had cost me two thousand pounds.

But my artisan came up trumps and I collected the vase the day of the first auction. It is generally not a good thing to attend in person at your victim’s auction because cameras and memory can catch you out. But I had to risk it to see who bought the vase and I like to work alone. The chain needed all of its links.

Well the bidding was fierce and fluid and the vase went for three hundred and fifty thousand pounds to Meijin Xia Hu who was clearly buying for another party in China.

An hour on the Internet and a walk round Portland Place on the West End of London and I was ready. Meijin was a woman in her thirties who was acting as an aide to the Chinese cultural attaché. She had a small apartment in the back of the Chinese Embassy. This was going to be the first time that my business was taking me abroad. At least in a legal sense, as an Embassy is the lawful ground of the owning country by international law!

This was looking pretty good. The vase was picked up in the afternoon and would leave in the diplomatic bag to China in the next few days. All I had to do was to break in, switch the vase for my fake and meet the seller to pick up my two hundred thousand.

2. Break In


I always think that jeans and leather jacket are a much better uniform than some crazy black spandex suit. Anyone wearing that sort of gear will be picked up by a policeman in short order. My tools are my brain and natural ability to improvise plus a few basics. I like to think that I blend into the background at average height. As the police like to say ‘he has no distinguishing marks’.

The roof of the adjoining school and doctor’s surgery is easy to enter. I just shimmied up a couple of pipes, no fuss, no tools needed. I have a pretty good head for heights, which stands me in good stead. There was, I will admit, a moment of tension, when the drain pipe separated from the gutter. I really pisses me off when owners don’t bother to maintain the glorious buildings that are the proud heritage of this country.

At any rate, a slightly wind-blown two minutes later and I was looking at the security fence between embassy and the building that I was on. Looking down into the darkened street I could see the public moving around, four stories below, going about their business.

Even better I could see the windows of Meijin’s rooms. At just seven in the evening it was already dusk and the work of the city was done, now was the time when the good citizens of London come out to play.

I waited.

Patience is a virtue. Actually it is another one of my strong suits. I can sit and focus on nothing but my target for hours at a time without weariness.

I waited some more.

The lights in the rooms went out so I looked into the street, hoping that Meijin was leaving for the dubious delights of the West End. Sure enough, just twenty minutes later she left the building with a couple of big guys and headed off up Weymouth Street.

I still waited.

The best sign is thirty minutes of inactivity. It is so easy to be caught by someone who returns for a small item or forgotten handbag. That short half an hour is enough to show that the victim is well clear. I knew that Meijin was single so there was not likely to be any other person in the rooms.

The climb was routine. I daresay that it would look like a stunt to you but shimmying up and down the inside corners of these rough stone built buildings is easy if you have nerve and the skill. It just takes time. I’m not exactly Jackie Chan but give me a handhold and I can climb a wall with ease.

Then there was the jump. A good long jump athlete can jump seven metres or more, I can jump almost the same! There are no rules and often I am jumping to a lower platform. This one was just five metres, a hop and over. I cracked my shin but the football shin pads that I always wear saved me from a fall.

The windows were standard sash windows, ten feet up, with a wide windowsill is not so very far if you have strong arms. Funny how owners don’t bother with the most basic defence, plastic frames are murder to open from the outside! I carry a few basic tools that I normally throw away immediately after my exit. One is the flat jimmy hook. This got me in. Bloody window had been painted shut, but the use of a putty knife and the window rolled up with a smooth swish.

I remember now that there was a distinct smell to the room, a sort of sweet but sickly smell but at the time I thought that it was incense or some such. I waited to hear if there was a reaction but the lack of alarms was patent and the building was still.

I entered and closed the door behind me. The only light was the gas fire that had been left to burn on low and my small torch. Amazing how LED torches have helped the burglary business, last for hours, bright as a hundred watt light bulb!

Now came the part that I hate, the search. If there was a safe in the room I was doomed. Despite the legends of safe crackers entering any safe with a few twists of the dial as they listen to the tumblers fall, a modern safe is un-crackable to casual assault. If the fools have noted their numbers nearby you are in luck. Otherwise leave by the nearest exit!

Since I was trying a substitute I had to leave no trace of my visit. Under these conditions a search is difficult. It took me half an hour to cover two sides of the room before I decided to check out the bedroom. I was feeling a little under the weather but the air in the bedroom was almost fresh so that revived my spirits.

The search here was simple as bedrooms are pretty uncomplicated. No luck, so I went back into the living room and checked out each piece of furniture carefully. This was starting to look like one of those times where I was going to come away empty handed. It happens about every second time!

I was feeling pretty woozy by the time that I found the small crate in an unpretentious antique chest. I took my time and prised it open, leaving no marks on the way. Each nail was a struggle to remove but at last I had it open. I took my fake and compared it with the original. Amazing job that guy had done for me in Derby.

Every crack was there, even though the glaze on the original had cracked at random. Even the slight lift on the rim of the foot was perfect. If the piece had been going up for auction again it would have been spotted for the fake that it was but this was heading for a collector’s cabinet in China. Modern British craftsmanship at its very best!

I placed both vases side by side, the fake was perhaps slightly taller but even to my discerning eye they were the almost identical.

I felt myself losing consciousness. I went to lift the real vase but my hand grasped air as I fell backwards to the carpet. My last thought was that the maintenance of gas fires should be carried out every two years, especially in older buildings as the carbon monoxide carried me off.

3. Awkward Questions


I came to in the bedroom that I had searched just a few short hours earlier. Naked as a baby, I was stretched out on the bed with my hands and feet bound to the posts.

Meijin was sitting by my side playing with a wicked looking knife whilst she eyed me with a tight smile.

“I have a little problem now, because of you,” she said when she saw my eyes open. With the knife she gestured at the dressing table by the bed where I saw the two small vases side by side.

I realised that the problem was one of distinguishing the original from the fake. It was my only advantage, my only realistic chance of escape.

“Will you let me go if I tell you which is which?” I asked as I eyed her slightly plump form.

Meijin was dressed in a red silk gown with dragons twisting across the fabric in gold embroidery. As she leant over me I saw a flash of her breasts as the fabric briefly opened. Her face came over mine so close that I could smell her sweet perfume and her dangling earrings almost touched my face.

“You will certainly tell me which is the fake! But how will I know that you are telling the truth?” she mused. “The problem is that tomorrow a man is coming to pick up the vase and courier it to the buyer in Shanghai. If I give him the fake I shall be in deep trouble with a woman who does not take kindly to being swindled.”

I wondered how I could convince her of my honesty. How could I buy my way out of this predicament? This was going to be a game of poker between us.

“On another subject, you are not an unattractive man!” she said as she sat back. Her eyes took in my restrained form and one of her hands moved over my chest.

Without boasting I can say that I am pretty fit. You cannot climb and jump without working out and I am able to climb a rope using only my hands. I had already surreptitiously pulled at my restraints and found them to be tight and secure but I had not looked at them yet. Better not to give her cause to distrust me.

One hand played over me for a few moments, almost reaching my prick before she stopped and passed the knife over my face.

“I keep this blade so very sharp,” she said as she allowed the blade to rest on my chest for a moment before it wandered down to the base of my manhood. “Just a flick of my wrist and you will…” She allowed the sentence to drift, unfinished, but the implication was clear.

Irrationally the touch of the blade on my flesh aroused me. I could feel an erection starting to grow.

Meijin smiled and cupped my balls with her other hand. “So what is it to be? Either you tell me what I need to know or I will leave you with a short stump.”

“Let me go and I will tell you.”

“I really do not think that you are in such a very good bargaining position,” she replied as I felt her sharp nails dig into me. The pain made me arch on the bed as she slowly clenched her hand to a fist and twisted just a little as she did so.

I got the feeling that she was enjoying tormenting me. The sly smile on her face and the tip of her tongue on her lips spoke volumes.

“Of course you will tell me my little captured qíng rén,” she laughed as she let go of my balls and allowed her finger to trace a path from thigh to throat. “If I call security you will not find them as tolerant as I am. After all, you are now in Chinese sovereign territory.”

I felt that I still had some room for manoeuvre so I stayed silent. If she called someone else Meijin would have to explain my naked presence on her bed and she would still have to find out which of the two vases was the real one.

With a theatrical sigh she stood up and walked round the bed to the two small vases perched on top of the bedside cabinet. With delicate touch she picked each of them up and inspected them carefully inside and out. For a moment I saw her hesitate and she seemed to repress a smile.

“Just think,” she said. “One of these is a fake and the other is a hundred thousand pounds worth of art. One was made in the last few weeks and the other is eight hundred years old. One was made here in your little island and a Chinese Song dynasty master-potter made the other.”

Carefully she placed both back onto the surface and compared them.

“Just let me free and I will show you which is Chinese and which is British,” I ventured.

“That is where we have the crux of the problem,” she said. “If I untie you may well tell me a lie or else you may escape. I have to be certain of the truth and you have to be sure that I will let you escape!”

4. Used Captive.


With a shrug she allowed the gown to slip from her shoulders to the floor. I could not help but admire her naked body. I would be lying if I described her as beautiful but even with short legs and wide hips she was an attractive woman. I found her more sexually stimulating than a great beauty.

“It would be a shame to damage such a virile man as you,” she said as she returned to my side.

One of her hands wandered over my flesh, scratching me lightly with her nails as it approached my straining erection. When it finally arrived it grasped me firmly and pulled down to expose the sensitive tip of my prick.

“I think that we should continue this conversation in a little while,” said Meijin as she climbed onto the bed. “I have another use for you in mind.”

She kneeled over my torso and looked down at me with a smile. One hand reached behind her and stroked my cock while the other wandered over her body, lingering to caress her breasts and then heading down to part the lips of her pussy.

A look of satisfaction passed over her pretty features as her finger strummed the bud of her clitoris. Her breasts were small and rounded with the nipples standing rigidly to attention but all I could think of was the way that her other hand played my prick like a musical instrument.

Moving fast and then slow she built me up and then let me down in a broken rhythm that made my body thrust up involuntarily and then relax. Meijin rode my chest as I writhed, allowing my struggles to press her hand into herself. The tip of her tongue touched her lips for a few moments, and her fingers grew ever more frantic as they played over the lips of her sex.

“Don’t stop,” I cried out. I could feel the gathering forces as I thrust myself into her hand, seeking to increase the friction and bring my own orgasm to completion.

Suddenly she released me. Had she sensed the brink of my coming? Her nails scratched the length of my shaft dropping me from the clouds to the ground with a thump.

“You will come later,” she whispered. “Maybe! If I decide that you can.”

Her own orgasm took her with the force of a storm as both her hands ploughed between her thighs with violent strokes. I felt her heels dig into my thighs as her legs quivered and she struggled to stay upright.

At last the spasms subsided and Meijin fell forward onto her outstretched arms until her face was but a few inches from mine. For a moment she looked into my eyes and I felt myself being sucked into their mahogany depths.

“Mmm. Again? Would you like to watch me come again?” she whispered.

“Of course,” I replied. “You are the boss!”

I had meant the comment as irony, but it was the truth! I had little say in the matter, Meijin could do as she wished with me. That is not to say that I was not enjoying the ride, being at a woman’s mercy was a new experience.

“I am more than your boss, I am the judge and the jury. If you please me well we shall see what happens next.” It was pretty clear that I would not be going anywhere fast.

Once again she sat up and kneeled over me. I could see her breasts rising and falling as she panted after the last bout. Meijin flicked her hair clear of her face and looked down at me with a rather lofty glance.

“Now it is time for me to use you properly,” she said as she slowly shuffled back over my quivering prick.

I lifted my head to see the very tip of me touching her moist lips. The arch of her thighs bisected by the rigid cock.

“No movement from you my little qíng rén,” she said in a serious voice. “I do the fucking and you stay absolutely still.”

I was not sure if I could manage to overcome my instincts but I nodded anyway to signal compliance. In reply she spread her knees a little, just a few inches to lower herself, to envelop the head of my cock.

I could feel the warmth of her slick tunnel and a gentle squeeze of muscle as she took me in, enfolded in her body. First her hands smoothed her breasts, lingering to tweak her nipples, then they made their way to her parted sex and framed my cock as it slid into her depths.

With a satisfied sigh she lowered herself onto me as her fingers guided me into her body. I tried so hard not to move, to be a statue, a frozen lover, but my hips could not help but twitch as I felt her enclose me to the very root of my erection.

My eyes were closed so I did not see the blow coming. A small hard hand slapped my face first with the palm and then on the return with a sharp back handed blow.

“No movement at all, was my command!” she hissed as she raised her hand for a second blow. This time I could see that her fist was clenched and that the blow was going to be a punch, not a slap.

“No,” was all I said and I saw the smile on her lips as the hand unclenched and lowered to my chest.

“Ethan, cuddle me, cuddle up to me, let me feel you beside me,” Kat murmured.

“Sure honey, I’m right here. Right beside you. Thinking about you, caring for you, loving you,” Ethan replied to his friend.

“What did I just say? Loving you? So, suddenly I was in love with my friend, but only because I was contemplating her being a dominant over me? I must be weird!” Ethan considered.

Weird or not, Ethan couldn’t get the thought out of his mind, and so he cuddled up even more closely to Kat, his wannabe dominant partner, his best friend. Kat was no true dominant though. It was not in her nature. Sure, she was dominant at work. She was a manager, and she was in control of a large number of staff. But outside of work, she just wanted to chill, to have a fun-loving life, to be loved, to be cherished. And to get drunk fairly often with her best friend Ethan.

“But what about Aunt Jane?” Ethan wondered. “Aunt Jane. Aunt Jane.”

“Kat, do you remember you told me that Aunt Jane was looking for someone to help her with her garden? Kat, you awake?”

“Yeah honey, Aunt Jane. What about Aunt Jane?”

“Aunt Jane – can you give her a call today and see if she still needs an employee?”

It was more of a demand on Kat, than a question. It was more about the fact that Ethan needed Aunt Jane, more than she probably would need him.

“Yeah Ethan, just let me get over this hangover for a while. I’ll call her a bit later today, okay?”

“Maybe you can give her a quick call now Kat. Its 9.30 so she’ll be up and about I expect.”

“Oh man, Ethan, you are the guy are you not – always pushing, and I’m always pleasing you. So, what does that make me – your servant or something?” Kat chortled. “Seems I should be the one wearing the frilly maid’s outfit, no?”

Ethan laughed at the thought of Kat in a maid’s outfit. “Yeah babe, I know, I owe you big time. You’ve helped me so much and you are always gonna be my best friend. I owe you so much. I can’t ask for a better friend than you, I really can’t.”

“Okay then Ethan, where’s my phone? Can you go find it for me – I think I have her number stored on my mobile.”

“Is it in your jacket pocket Kat?”

“Yup – jacket I left on the couch in the living room.”

In a few seconds, Ethan had found Kat’s phone, and was proffering it to her, pushing her to make the call to the dominant Aunt Jane.

“Hey, Aunt Jane, is that you? Its Kat. Yeah I’m good, thanks. How are you? Fine yeah, good. I heard that you had an opening for a gardener, is that the case? Oh, it is, okay good. I have a friend who is a qualified landscaper. He’s looking for work in this area and is prepared to commute each day if that is necessary. Oh, so you have accommodation available? That’s great! How about I get him to give you a call a little later today, and you can discuss the job criteria together – sound good with you? Nice! I’ll get him to call you. Nice talking with you Aunt Jane. You take good care… bye now.”

“You heard all that, right? She will be happy to talk with you today, if you want to give her a call. So, seems like my darling Ethan is potentially no longer only my Ethan – I’ll have to share you with Aunt Jane,” Kat mocked.

“Kat”, Ethan replied, “you know there can only be one woman for me – ever! And that woman is you. Don’t be worried about Aunt Jane the sadist. I’ll have her eating out of my hand well before you know it!”

But Ethan wasn’t quite so sure of that. He suddenly felt nervous. “I’ll have to speak to Aunt Jane. Oh my, what if she hates me? What if she is in fact a sadist and she takes control over me? I know its a nice thought, but what if it were actually true? Shit, what have I got myself involved in?”

“Ethan, you okay?” Kat asked. “Suddenly you look a bit nervous. Oh my, are you getting giddy about my Aunt Jane? Perhaps you’re having thoughts of her laying you over her lap and spanking your bare bottom because you’ve been a naughty boy? Does that make you hot, or does that make you want to pee your pants?”

Kat was laughing. Ethan was NOT! He suddenly felt totally intimidated by the mere thought of Aunt Jane.

“Fuck Kat, you can laugh all you like, but what if… what if your Aunt is really what they say she is? What if she treats me just like she did poor old Uncle Tom? What if, Kat, what if?”

“Hey Ethan, this is what many men dream about. They want to give in to a strong woman like Aunt Jane, don’t they honey. I bet you are no different. Come to think of it, if I wanted to be like her, I’d have you eating out of my hand. Or, to put it another way – eating out of my pussy,” Kat grinned. “Nice thought actually Ethan. Nice thought having you down there and eating me out while I demand more from you.”

The mere consideration of Kat having him eating out of her pussy got him excited, and suddenly there was a lump in his shorts where just seconds ago there had been none. He tried to cover it by lowering his hands, but Kat was on the game in an instant.

“You see! I told you men like to be controlled by strong women. Come on Ethan – admit it. Just the idea of me having you eating from between my legs has got you all hot and bothered. Well, seems to me that if I’m to compete with Aunt Jane, I’m gonna have to be much more dominant over you in future. So you watch your step with me buster or you’ll be my little lamb and up for the slaughter!”

Ethan did not know if Kat was joking about this or not. She looked deadly serious, and she held his gaze intently. “Maybe she’s of the same blood stock that Aunt Jane is after all. Maybe Kat did have the potential for being a cruel dominant, but she’d just never really demonstrated it with me before,” Ethan contemplated.

“Come on Kat, stop joking around with me, will ya!” Ethan scoffed. “This may be funny to you, but its no longer funny to me. But yeah, you are right, the thought of eating you down there does kinda erm, get me warm a bit, I admit it,” he half joked.

“Ethan – just a bit, huh? Check out your play thing – its rock hard, dude!” Kat was laughing now. She knew she had her friend tied up. He had no-where to hide. It was now out in the open and they both knew it. “So, you my dear Ethan actually want to belong to me. Or, perhaps its Aunt Jane you want to belong to. Or maybe its both of us. Well, I’ll have to have a word with my dear Aunt Jane about this and we’ll see what we can come up with. In the meantime, I need another coffee and make it stronger this time. Go, go!” she scolded him into action.

Ethan leapt up from where he was lying on the bed and ran through the door way towards the kitchen, making every attempt to cover his nether region in case of further derision from his friend Kat (the new dominatrix on the block!).

He reached the kitchen, reached for the kettle, filled it up, slapped on the power, got some fresh mugs and this time popped two 3-in-1′s in Kat’s cup. “Hopefully this is what she means by strong coffee, or I could be in deep sh.t!” he figured.

“Kat, I hope that’s okay for you,” he said as he entered the bedroom and attempted to hand Kat her coffee.

“Get the table over there, slave boy, and put it next to me here,” Kat beckoned where she wanted the table to be placed.

Ethan put the coffee down on the floor and scurried over to get the little coffee table. Once done, he placed Kat’s coffee on the table top.

“No!” she hissed. “Go and get a place mat. If you mark my coffee table I’ll take it out on your bare ass, boy!”

“Was she being serious” Ethan wondered “or just having fun? Whatever this was about, it was causing him to have heart palpitations. Seems that Kat could in fact be a very good dominatrix after all, if she so wished to be.”

Ethan quickly went on the hunt for some place mats in the living room and returned to see Kat now sitting upright with her breasts almost hanging out of her negligee.

“Oooh fuck,” he thought, “she’s really playing games with me and she knows exactly what she’s doing too.” Ethan stared at Kat’s golden globes and automatically scored them at a 9 out of 10. It was a guy thing after all – it just happened that way. He would have scored them a 10 but a 10 was unobtainable no matter how good they were.

“What the fuck are you staring at boy?” Kat shouted.

“Emmm… not staring at anything, Kat. Its just that your front end is coming out a bit and, well, I’m a guy, so, emmm… what do you expect me to do, pretend not to notice them?” Ethan tried to explain in a fairly sheepish manner.

“I bet you’d like to suck them, slave boy. I bet you would like to suck on Kat’s big bouncy juicy water melons. In fact, I don’t have to bet on it, I know it. But you’re not going to get that chance, at least not today. Time you were gone. Now go get dressed and be absolutely sure that you call Aunt Jane today, okay? I don’t want to have her calling me and telling me that you were a no-show. So you make sure you give her a call, and do keep in mind that she is very much the dominant woman, and she loves to have men squirming, or at least that’s what I’m told. I’m sure you can do a very good job at being a squirmer, Ethan MacDonald. You’ve already proven to me this morning that you are more than capable! Now, get dressed and get out. You’ll be hearing from me soon, don’t you worry, my little Ethan, my darling little Ethan.”

Kat was really getting into the mould of the dominant lady after all. Ethan had known her for all these years and had never experienced anything like this. And boy, did he like it! But at the same time, he was concerned what this experience may do to their friendship. He was in many ways dependent on Kat’s hospitality. So, what if she was no longer going to be such a liberal friend, and instead was to become much more masterful in a mistress like fashion? That would possibly be the end of a great friendship as they both had known it. Was it worth giving in to this – a much more dominant Kat – simply because Ethan had a penchant for being on the receiving end when it came to attractive, dominating women?

Ethan grabbed at the pile of clothing he had dropped on the floor not long ago. He really wanted to get out of there fast – as fast as possible! Even though he was totally entranced by everything Kat was doing, he was at the same worried about the future consequences that this little enactment would bring.

He donned his clothes as fast as he could, had a quick look in the wall mirror to check his appearance. Then walked over to Kat so he could give her a kiss as a way of thank you for the previous night.

She turned her face upwards in order to meet the kiss from her new slave boy.

“I’ll give you a call in the next few days or so,” she said. “Its time you started to earn my love rather than take it for granted, I’m sure you agree, slave boy Ethan, my darling little play thing,” Kat sneered.

“Fuck!” Ethan thought, “she’s utterly incredible! Whoever would have thought it possible?” He was tempted to say in reply “yes, Mistress Kat,” but instead managed to stutter “emm yes Kat, thanks again for erm – everything.”

With that, he fled Kat’s house with his tail between his legs, in some ways hoping very much for a similar experience in the near future, but in other ways looking forward to having their friendship intact and back to the way it had always been – at least until now, that is!

July 2018
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