Oh, he's ready. She got his motor running again with the way she came, and he's waiting now; hungry for it. He's got through a few fags, thrown back a couple of hefty Scotches. And then he heard the shower go off, so he poured wine, kicked off his boots and socks, and contemplated just getting into bed. But no, it's too much fun letting her undress him.

So he'd sat back down on the couch, shirt half-undone and belt unfastened. His hand rests lightly between his legs - not hiding his interest; even encouraging it along with the odd squeeze when he thinks of what she's doing in there. And when she calls out, he doesn't make her wait.

'Hope you're ready, luv.'

Christ, he's going to make her scream.