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waitress from Abington or close by.

    She followed as he knew she would, and he opened the cab door to allow her to come in to his den. The bed through the back was useful. Very useful. He moved his Gibson guitar onto the front seat and positioned himself around the back. She climbed in without any encouragement and went down so easily it was if she had done this before. The smell of money was too much for her but, after consenting, and moaning and sweating in the back of the cab for him, Tom would not be paying her a cent. He knew this and he lay back as she straddled him til orgasm. He had done this before and he would do it again.

2.6 Emma

    The train was packed. The earlier train was cancelled and this meant she would have to run from Haymarket to get to the office in time for the interview. Fucking trains.
    The sweaty, wet people created a musty smell and the trains were used so regularly they would never lose it she guessed. But this was what she wanted - a chance to get away from Fife and the familiar – an adventure with the other side, on the other side of the water.
    The train crossed the Forth Bridge in all its glory, albeit the views were limited along the river by low cloud and heavy rain. Standing holding on to the luggage rack Emma became aware of two eyes staring at her from a raincoat clad man close by. Embarrassed by this eye contact she turned away, leg pressed against one of the luggage-rack legs. She rolled her hand down it to tidy her skirt, before realizing that it wasn’t the luggage rack at all.

    Her eyes looked straight at the gentleman she had fondled. He seemed a little shocked, but quite happy.
    ‘I’m sorry’
    ‘Never worry’
    She turned back towards the luggage rack as the train stopped at Dalmeny on the South side of the river. Few bodies got off, but more got on, and this time the people crammed around her. She thought of potential answers for the interview. Why she wanted the position. Why she would rather have a job which meant having to commute each day. Even without the pressure of the interview at this point she still found it difficult to answer them. She would never get it. The bodies were tight, but suddenly there was a tug at her waist, and a warmth across her midriff. A hand had appeared, straying from a coat sleeve. Emma's eyes looked up and around her. Many eyes were looking at the ceiling, or at books held high out of the way of the others. One set of eyes looked at her. They seemed kind, the man was mid twenties, with a boyish charm. Good bone structure.
    ‘Sorry’, he said.
    ‘Never worry’ Emma replied. The hand did not move. She gulped but found it hard not to stare at the blond gent who would not have looked out of place in a fashion magazine with his wide collar and purple sheen tie. The hand moved down to her waist and across the front of her skirt. His eyes were still on hers. The train had been moving, and was now stopping again just outside South Gyle. She could feel a strange nervous feeling within. Horror and delight in equal measure. The train headed off and the blond man continued to stare at her. The hand moved down across the top of her thigh, and rubbed for a second. She looked down to see the hand there. She looked up again quickly. The blond man had turned away. The hand remained. She pushed her hand down upon it and it moved quickly away as the people started bustling for position. The blond man followed his guide dog away, and Emma felt sick and squeezed into a seat which had been left by a passenger who had reached his stop.

    Her heart beat quicker. What the hell was going on in the world? She had been attacked. Yet she did nothing. She was so disillusioned by Tom she almost wanted to be taken away. This wasn’t the way though. The job would be the way out.

2.7 Simon

    The College corridors gleamed behind Spiv. A job well done. The 50 metres or so which faced him were like the Wall of China awaiting a coat of paint. The students cared not for