Time Lies. Magnus Stanke

strains to listen. Isn’t that somebody’s breathing, somebody who isn’t him? Should he call out, try and make conversation? He tries to say ‘hello’ but realises no sound is escaping his parted lips.

      Then he feels warm skin touch his hand. It’s not an unpleasant sensation. Quite the contrary, in fact. By touch he recognises an unmistakably round part of the female anatomy. The person in the room is cupping her breast into Karl’s cuffed hand.

      Then the pleasurable pressure disappears. He hears her stepping around his chair and feels her hands on his crotch. When she pulls his jogging bottoms over his knees he is tingling with anticipation and does all he can to facilitate the task.

      Her hands disappear and Karl feels let down. Did she really stop so soon?

      He can’t make out the new few sounds, can’t see how the woman rips off a tiny bit of condom wrapper with her teeth and spits it out.

      When she unrolls the latex over his erect member he relaxes and expects that he is in for more than tease.

      ‘Happy birthday, friend,’ she says.