“At the lights at Boundary Street, she moved to the front seat so I could massage her spine. I started at her neck. By Mona Vale Road, I’d reached the small of her back and was feeling a stirring in my loins. ‘That’s not too hard is it?’ I asked. She shook her head.
By Telegraph Road, I’d reached her coccyx and was headed for territory beyond the jurisdiction of the Chiropractic Society. My fingers slid between her buttocks as we turned off the Highway. She unzipped my fly and opened her mouth.
‘I always wondered why this road was called Bobbin Head,’ I said. She replied but I didn’t catch the words. I dropped her off, thinking maybe I’d gone too far – but it was only by a few metres.”
Excerpt from Going Places – THE BITS THAT DIDN’T FIT