Sinead gasps with delight and brings up her phone for a second snap.

“Never mind that,” urges the proprietress. “We must give the boy’s mother an idea of our range.”

“But Miss MacTavish, he’s so CUTE.”

Melvyn feels like curling into a ball to hide. She must be talking about his cock, which is starting to stiffen under her attention, especially in this dreadful place of blouses and petticoats. His friend sees the pain on his face and steps closer to whisper at his face: “Don’t worry, Melvyn. I won’t be sharing this with Karen, Bianca or Faye,” but her mischievous grin sends a shiver through his naked body as the last of his clothing is removed.