Marty Felder glanced up from his crouching position, where he was squinting into a Minolta spot-type lightmeter the photographer was holding toward the carefully-poised form of Gloria Annenburg, an Austrian import who was one of Felder’s discoveries and who, Madison Avenue legend has it, occupies a bedroom suite of her own in his mid-town penthouse, available at any hour to satisfy the terms of her meteoric success in a most unique manner. He spotted Jessica, smiled openly, then visibly cooled as he checked out the dimensions of her escort. For though only twenty one, Phillip Wright was excellently built, broad through the shoulders and chest, but with a slim tapered waist that evidenced his morning three-mile runs and high-protein diet. Phillip determined long ago that, while he was definitely an artist, it wasn’t necessary to effect that gaunt, teetering-at-starvation’s-door appearance so many of his contemporaries seemed to carry like an identification card of their trade.
Filed under: Uncategorized - 05 Jun 2013 | Spread the word !
“You should know better than that, Salvador.” He removed his arm with careful deliberation from the grasp of his brother. “Our father has suffered a stroke; he is sick and old. Do you think I would tell a helpless man like him what I have just told you? Rosita is charming,” he continued, a hard glint in his eye, “and fucks like a whore, but one does not tell a story like that to one’s father. Now, where is he? I wish to see him.”
Filed under: Uncategorized - 03 Jun 2013 | Spread the word !
She was lying there dreaming when suddenly Uncle Max had entered her room and saw her lying there naked on the bed. She had tried to cover herself but her robe was on her dressing table stool, and he had stared down at her exquisitely molded young body for a full minute, his drunken, lust-glazed eyes roving over the upthrust of her trembling white tittles and then down over her belly to take in the small triangle of softly curling blonde pussyhairs. Then his eyeballs had seemed to swell as they came to rest on the pink, already moistened cuntslit. between her thighs and, for the first time in her young life, Melanie had felt fear.
Filed under: Uncategorized - 31 May 2013 | Spread the word !
Wife, lover, mistress or whore, any way you’ll take me, she thought as he brushed the rumpled mop of thick, black hair away from his face and crossed the room. The towel and his brisk stride gave him the air of a triumphant conqueror come to claim his reward. Her eyes trained on the slit that opened in the terry cloth, exposing a suntanned thigh as he stepped. She tried to glimpse what lay beneath, although she already knew.
Filed under: Uncategorized - 29 May 2013 | Spread the word !
The lure of unearthing a Dravidian civilization in the desert that would boggle scientific minds must have played a part in her decision. Perhaps it was the idea of being swept off to parts unknown by her lover? She was–had been–a diehard romantic. Not anymore. After two years of grim reality, Katt could not recall, with any clarity, exactly how she had felt about Ted in those days, or even why she had married him.
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