It worked, too. I was quite happy to shut up and be snogged. However, there was something else I wanted, too.

“My turn now,” I said, pulling at the hem of her dress to drag it up.

Polly gave a wriggle to help me get it over her arse, but when I’d got it off her, she blushed a bit. I didn’t know anyone still did that these days.

“I feel ever so naked, Leigh,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest self-mockingly.

“Not enough,” I teased, pulling open her unresisting arms and running my fingers over her silky bra, teasing her nipples until they stood out proudly beneath the thin material. Her knickers were of the same deep green satin as the bra, I noticed. That was very Pollyanna -- even when I did bother with a bra, it was pretty much whatever I pulled out of a drawer. I’d always thought it was silly to make a fuss about something most people wouldn’t even see, but somehow it looked right on Polly.

“I wasn’t complaining about being naked,” she whispered, nibbling the top of my ear.

“I was, about the ‘not enough,’” I said. “Nice undies, Pollyanna, but even nicer off.”

“You’d better do something about it, then,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

Reckoning that since Polly hadn’t done this before I ought to give her something to remember, I kissed my way down her body, licking a path over her belly and biting her gently on the inside of her thighs. I’d kind of thought she might taste of flowers or something, but Pollyanna never did what I expected of her. She was salty and smooth and very, very, real. In a good way. She lay back contentedly as I grabbed her knickers with my teeth and pulled them over her legs. It was a bit odd, the way one leg could move and the other just lay there waiting to be prodded out of the way, but it was just like anything else, really -- I had non-existent tits, Pollyanna had a leg that didn’t work.

And just as Polly had been quite encouraging about my breasts, I found myself thinking that even her wasted leg was gorgeous, because it was Polly’s. She looked like she wanted to hide it away -- under the bedclothes if necessary -- but I wasn’t having that. I wanted to make love to all of Polly, to show her that she was bloody attractive just the way she was. I kept one hand on her bad leg, stroking it, to make sure she couldn’t pull the covers over it. Between us, we managed to get her out of her kit, which, as I told her, I’d been waiting to do for quite a while, and then I got busy.

Loads of people say I’m really mouthy at any time, but when it comes to sex, I reckon being good with your mouth is a pretty useful talent. Can’t say I’m up there with the sexy talk -- I tried it once, felt like a right idiot -- but when it comes to bringing someone off, I’m not half bad. Anyway, Polly didn’t seem to have any complaints, seeing as she was making these incredible little moan-y noises that really did it for me. I mean, I know you’re probably supposed to concentrate on one thing at a time, but I couldn’t help having one of my hands between my own legs, even as I was busy on her. There was her clit to play with, of course, but I also quite liked having my tongue deep inside her -- and so did she. Her Polly-taste was even stronger here: female and sensual. She came all of a sudden, giving this long gasping breath, and then when she was breathing fairly normally again, she dragged me up beside her.

“You’re still in jeans,” she pointed out. “Not fair.”

“You’d better do something about it, then,” I mocked.

Her eyes lit up with the challenge. “Okay.”

Polly wasn’t bad at the undressing bit; her fingers were a bit fumbly, but I wasn’t sure whether that was accidental or a good excuse to cop a feel. When I asked her, she just grinned at me wickedly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” When I was lying there naked, though, she had a bit of a crisis of confidence. “I won’t be as good as you,” she said, her hand resting uncertainly on my belly.