The Last Race of the Season

'If that'll make you happy.'

'It will,' she said. 'I think it should make us all happy.' And she looked to a smiling Karen for confirmation.

We sipped and chatted on for another ten minutes or so, and then I announced that I had better go and check the anchor. (It would also give me an opportunity to have a discreet pee over the side.)

It was a pleasant night. And it was surprisingly mild. I guess the earlier southerly had brought warm air up from North Africa. There were a few streaks of cloud, but nothing to suggest rain. I checked the lashing on the genoa and the main and then, after a final scan, I headed below. I had only been gone for five minutes at most, but the girls had cleared away the dishes and pulled the spare sails out from the forepeak, and they were sitting there, on the edge of the forward double berth, waiting for me.

Karen's pubic hair was dark and appeared to be silky -- like the hair on her head. India's neatly-trimmed carpet also matched her drapes.

'Do you need us to undress you?' Karen asked. 'Or do you want to do that yourself?'