‘Why I stop?’ she said. ‘Why we stop? Now is poor Marcus, not poor Sylva! Now you are prisoner. Slave, isn’t it? Poor Sylva is happy Sylva … and will be happy Marcus too, I think.’

Her hands glided firmly across the taut blue cotton of his straining slip, caressing, stroking, nipping. He rolled wildly beneath her, trapped at the knees, beating his hands at his sides, crying out in little strangled gasps.

‘No! No! No! For Christ’s sake, Sylva… let me free.’

‘I let this one free firstly,’ she cried, and with a swift tug unclipped the buckle at his hip and stripped him.

He gave a helpless sob, reared upwards.

‘Oh! Stupendo!’ she cried happily. ‘Si robusto! Si robusto!’ and quickly untying the cord at her own hip, she removed with one swift, and practised, move the last shred of modesty she possessed. And raped him.

He tucked himself away tidily inside the slip, snapped the buckle right, grinned down at her. ‘There we are. All neat and shipshape.’

She looked up at him, busily tying her string. ‘A nice shape. I like.’

‘So it seemed. Blimey! I’m almost castrated.’

She laughed happily. ‘A castrato! Castroneria! You are not cross with me?’

‘Good grief! Do I look cross?’

‘You will not say to me “piss off”?’

‘I will not say to you piss off. But you nearly broke my legs.’

She got up holding the small green cups in her hand by the string. ‘Poor legs! I am so sorry. I am big girl. You will tie this for me, it is difficult.’

He assisted her to fix the slender-fingered pieces over her breasts.

‘You know? You could have suckled Romulus and Remus with this pair alone,’ he said.

She slapped his hand. ‘You are disgusting to me. But it was a good way, eh? It was good for you, is true?’

‘Great. Not much alternative.’

‘It is the Women’s Liberation way!’

‘It sure as all hell isn’t the Missionary way.’

‘This I do not know.’

‘I rather suspect that you wouldn’t.’ He looked up suddenly towards the steps. ‘And we haven’t got time to try it now. Here comes a waiter or someone… clearing the bar. Want a drink before he does?’

‘I swim first… I am so hot… then a drink. I do my hair.’ She started piling it up into a heavy bun on the top of her head.