It was summer, after her first year of college, and she’d worked up a sweat mowing her lawn. I was putting flashing around my foundation and struggl...ng to get both ends of a long strip under shingles. I saw her watching, and I called out, “Would you mind giving me a hand?” We’d never met, and she seemed uncertain, but she came anyway. Her walk was saucy, though I’m sure she wasn’t putting on a show. We introduced ourselves, and I told her I'd helped her mom out a couple of times. I wanted her. I loved my hair this way; it was a symbol of my spirit and my crowningglory. Flashing green eyes belied the intelligence behind them. My boyfriendsalways said that my pouty, bow-shaped lips were made for cock sucking. I hada healthy looking body from years of tennis, racquetball, and running. My breastswere not spectacular, but more than a mouthful is a waste. The first month at my new job, my fatherly boss, Darryl, "talked" tome about the amount of visitors stopping by my office. He was. More

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