Nice She Looks, Bush She Is

Two dashing playboys in bespoke, slick, black suits lounge in a stylish drawing room, on a softly lit evening, wetting their wealthy whistles on expensive brandy, smoking choking cigars and deviously debating their thrilling chasing sport.

One is pulpit-preaching the virgin virtues of feeding on a fixed field of victims. He exhorts, “I’m against the cruelty of juggling more than five…”, when a fiercely fetching feline-featured woman with mostly invisible clothing on her sleek ebony skin raps on the door, and lets herself in, with lazy, libido-liberating moves.

A boy-butler (or whatever he is) appears on cue to show the sultry siren upstairs. As she sails behind him through the wide archway, she tartly trails her skilful, flexible fingers on the spotless white wall! Shocking!