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it must be to look like her, to have a lover like Cristos Bennati, and live in a Bel Air mansion – which was where she presumed Angelique Warne lived. What it must be like to be so successful, so adored by the public and have a man like Cristos Bennati too, Corrie was thinking to herself, when Kevin slipped an arm around her, and began nuzzling her ear. She put her head back, closed her eyes and pretended that it was Bennati, or de Niro, or Redford, sitting beside her. After a while she became so lost in her fantasy that she gave a severe start when Kevin suddenly took out his handkerchief and trumpeted into it.
    Corrie turned away, rolling her eyes, but grinning all the same at the crude return to reality. Then, stuffing his handkerchief back in his pocket Kevin put his arm around her again and made to take up where he’d left off. Corrie sat straighter in her seat and whispered for him to watch the film.
    On the way home, having overcome his fit of pique at being rebuffed, Kevin became surprisingly articulate with a sudden rush of compliments. Didn’t she know that she, Corrie, was sexier even than Angelique Warne? ‘Her tits are so small it’d be like feeling up yourself,’ he said. ‘Your figure could knock spots off hers, do you know that?’
    ‘Yes, but it’s such a bore having to fight off so many men all the time,’ Corrie complained, running a finger over her eyebrows and pouting her lips. Inside she was laughing. She knew only too well what Kevin was leading up to – and this was his way of putting her in the mood.
    After a while he fell silent and when Corrie glanced at him and saw his glum face she felt instantly contrite. He’d guessed she wasn’t taken in by his compliments and was now hurt and embarrassed that she was teasing him. She was sorry and wanted in some way to make amends. What she’d like even more was to fall for him, to discover that he was all she wanted in a man – in life.
    A few minutes later he stopped the Volvo in the same secluded spot they always stopped at after their visits to the cinema, and then began their ritual necking and fumbling.
    Despite the cold it was a clear night, and catching a glimpse of Kevin’s face Corrie found herself hoping that the moonlight wasn’t as cruel on her as it was on poor Kevin’s ghostly pallor. But his next comment, as predictable as all the others so far, told her it wasn’t her face he was looking at.
    ‘You got the most fantastic tits, Corrie, do you know that?’ he said, wrestling the D cup of her reinforced cross-your-heart up over her left breast. Not for her a lacy scrap of nothing, she was far too well endowed for such fripperies.
    Corrie let him fondle her a while, idly wondering whether she should replace some of the spring stock in the shop with more winter stuff since it had turned so cold again, when she surprised herself by giving a moan of genuine pleasure as Kevin lowered his mouth to her nipple. Try to concentrate, she chided herself. It wasn’t difficult, not now, since the sensations Kevin was evoking were so pleasurable that she found herself freeing her other breast herself. And, as Kevin’s hand closed over it, she felt the unmistakable warmth of lust starting to surge through her.
    ‘Oh, Corrie,’ he groaned savagely, his voice muffled somewhere in her cleavage. ‘Corrie, they’re so fantastic. They’re so big and soft, and … Shit! Just looking at them I could come. Let me take my cock out,’ he said, pressing her hand to his groin. ‘Just for a few minutes.’
    Corrie could feel his erection straining beneath his trousers and pushed her hand hard against it.
    Kevin choked. ‘Fuck me!’ he cried. ‘Let me take it out, Corrie. Please!’ He was already fumbling with his zip. ‘Oh Corrie, your tits, your great big tits. A man could … Ooooh!’ he groaned, as he pulled his penis free. Quickly he caught Corrie’s hand, and as she wrapped her fingers around it he seemed to go wild. ‘Oh yes,’ he