Miss Welby, I was quietly wanking in my bed over an old soft-porn magazine when I heard someone unlocking the door and entering my pied-à-terre in Heathrow. Half an hour earlier I had suddenly waken up to my recurrent nightmare - having to get up and commute to work. Then to my relief I realised that it was a Saturday. It’s amazing how I indulge under the blanket until a few minutes before the train in working days, while finding myself fully awaken at once on weekends. Could it be that I hate my focking job and even more the two hour and a half commuting bit? Who knows. Never mind. By the way, I opened a drawer and helped myself with a vintage Leg Show issue. By the time I was nearly done with the hand job, investigative reporter MS turned up unexpectedly. Well, had I been expecting him, happy as I would have been to see my old friend I wouldn’t have got to the point of welcoming him with an ejaculation.