Baby Oil Bad Boy
Saturday mornings felt like being wrapped up in a warm, snuggly blanket on an icy cold winter’s night. They are the sanctuary for the weekday weary, and for Sarah it meant she could rouse from her ‘slumber of the dead’ a couple of hours later than usual. It was a lovely feeling, being relaxed and totally at peace with the world. She stretched out her tired, weary limbs under the big soft duvet and smiled, it felt like floating on a fluffy white cloud. Five days of the week, the pressures of...