“Who was she?” That was the first thought that came into my mind when I saw her in the bookstore. Jody, the publicist, pointed her out. “Catch your devoted fan over there,” she said. “Goldilocks.” Goldilocks, yes, she had hair like that, absolutely right, down to her shoulders. But who was she really? Photographing her, painting her. Reaching under her short little Catholic school plaid skirt and touching the silk of her naked thighs, yes, I thought of all that, too, I have to admit it. I thought of kissing her, seeing if her face was as soft as it looked-babyflesh. Yes, it was there from the start, especially once she gave me the age old inviting smile and her eyes became for a moment a woman’s eyes. [download]
Format : Ebook.Pdf
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