London in the 1700s - what a romping good time was had by many a male (providing you were rich of course). Money just didn't buy you power - it also bought you prostitutes and mistresses aplenty. This story is a veritable mixture of delights - sex, indecent liaisons, lust, magic, ghosts, really likeable characters all topped off with a smattering of feminism well before its time. Catherine Cookson this isn't - but a fabulous read it is.
Candles were lit and only when the servant had left did I see at my eye level two round holes in the velvet drapes. I really had no idea what to expect when through the holes appeared the most perfectly formed male appendages. Just the sight of them excited me beyond anything I could have imagined, both round tipped and pink with a pleasing thickness to them. I thought they looked quite edible.
'What do I do now?' I asked Mrs Gaye, and she, never short of imagination, whispered into my ear then left. In that time the appendages had become disappointingly limp. I touched the tips of both and was pleasantly surprised at how soft they were, and found that once touched they both immediately resumed the upright position.