When the story broke my reaction was, “Prescott got his greens, did he? Good for him! There’s hope for us all.” I pictured him rolling in drunk after lunch one day with an obscene leer on his face, and making a boorish and ham-fisted lunge at her, after which they went at it like toads in a pond. That would have been my method.
But my mother always said that I mustn’t judge other people by my own low standards. It could be that the Deputy Prime Minister was a caring lover, who was sensitive to Tracey’s needs as a woman. We simply don’t know, until the Metropolitan Police have finished their investigation.
She had no intention of falling under his spell, but her body ached irresistibly for the touch of his cruel lips.
'John,' she gasped, as she melted in his manly arms. 'John...'
'Aye, lass,' whispered John. 'When tha'rt willin'!'
'What?'
'Get thee skates on,' he urged. She shuddered with delight as his throbbing parliamentary mace sprang loose.
I imagine the police report will say something along those lines.
"Sensitive lover" say Downing Street sources
