Going Too Far Read Online Free PDF Page B

test – if you can set it up.’
    ‘Fine. Actually I’m in marketing and it’s just the sort of thing I’m going to Peru for.’
    ‘What, oral sex?’ I laughed out loud.
    ‘No, setting up tastings. We’re test-marketing a new soft drink.’
    ‘Really? I thought they had their own. Inca Kola, isn’t it?’
    Peter made a disgusted face. ‘Wait till you taste it; it’s like bubble gum. This one’s going to be a winner, though possibly not in the South American market. It’s a cross between fizz and milkshake. Did you ever have ice-cream floats when you were a kid?’
    ‘Mmm, delicious. But how can you export from Holland to Peru? Surely it’d cost a fortune to get it there?’
    He laughed delightedly. ‘Oh, Bliss, you’re not very up in the ways of business, are you? Of course we wouldn’t export it; we’d get a factory to make it there and just send the secret concentrate, like everyone else does. After all, there’s no reason why the Americans should hog the whole of the market with Coke and Pepsi.’
    I digested that information. He was right, I wasn’t up in the ways of business at all. My job was to design fabric, and that was as near to the material world as I wanted to get.
    ‘Great. Can we go back to talking about sex?’
    By the time we had to fasten our seat belts to land in Aruba I felt like I was sitting in a pool of melted ice-cream myself. Seizing my hand and guiding it under his Wall Street Journal Peter quickly demonstrated that he too was ready for action.
    Only a handful of people were ending their journey in Aruba but after they’d gone the stewardess announced that anyone who wanted to stretch their legs could get off for half an hour. I immediately stood up but Peter pulled me down.
    ‘See how many are getting off,’ he said quietly. ‘It might be nice and quiet on here.’
    Sure enough nearly everybody left the plane. The stewardess with the blonde ponytail came round telling everyone the doors would soon be closing. As she leaned over our row Peter said something to her in Dutch and she shook her head. Quietly he said something else, looking at me briefly and back, and she burst out laughing and answered him with another shake of the head. He persisted and an exchange I couldn’t even begin to follow ensued. Finally she walked to the front of the plane and Peter immediately pulled me up and went to the back.
    As he slid open the toilet door the stewardess finished the announcement she had made in Dutch and began in English: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we would remind you that the toilets are not to be used while the plane is in the airport. Thank you.’
    Two minutes later she joined us, Peter having in the meantime done another pretty efficient mopping-up operation on the washbasin and spread paper towels over the floor.
    ‘Marjo, Bliss,’ he introduced. ‘Bliss doesn’t speak Dutch, Marjo, despite being a van Bon. Do you mind English?’
    ‘You want to lick me out, Peter; I don’t care what language you do it in,’ she answered, winking at me. ‘I don’t think I ever had an audience before, Bliss. You do this sort of thing a lot?’
    ‘First time for me too.’ I almost felt like a gawky virgin as Marjo casually unzipped her skirt and wriggled out of it. She was wearing stockings and suspenders, so don’t tell me she wasn’t in the habit of screwing someone during the course of a long haul. Folding the skirt, she put it neatly on the toilet lid and pulled her knickers down and placed them on top.
    ‘I’ve had more propositions than I can remember on flights but it’s the first time a man’s ever said, “I want to lick you out and this girl here wants to watch,” ’ she confided as she perched on the edge of the washbasin and opened her legs. ‘Hat on or off?’
    ‘Oh, definitely on,’ said Peter gravely. He undid her blouse and exposed quite startlingly big tits in black lace to match the rest of her underwear.
    ‘You said no first off,’ I guessed as