I walked across Trafalgar
Square at 8.30 on Sunday morning with Chloe and we were more than a little
worse for wear. We were on our way home after the best party ever, still in our
short dresses and impossible heels. I was clutching a half-empty bottle of
champagne. I had no knickers on. And I know that spunk was running down the
inside of my thighs.
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