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Medders at Large A week in solitary and the secrets of the bed chamber – under the duvet with Medders

David Medcalf


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It was not that he actually liked wearing socks in bed but, at the end of the lonesome day, it was easier to leave them on.

It was not that he actually liked wearing socks in bed but, at the end of the lonesome day, it was easier to leave them on.

It was not that he actually liked wearing socks in bed but, at the end of the lonesome day, it was easier to leave them on.

‘I’m wearing my socks in bed tonight.’ Medders made the announcement loudly, defiantly, almost brashly. Here was a man asserting himself, a man capable of taking his own decisions, a man who cared not a fig for what anyone else thought of him.

Fine socks they are too,’ he opined, sitting on the bed and looking down towards his feet at the socks in all their diamond-patterned splendour. ‘Cotton rich, with a hint of lycra, and reinforced soles. Just the job for keeping a man’s toes warm at night if they happen to stick out from under the duvet.’


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