Memory is both seductive and selective. We've all relived the so-called 'good old days' and I'm no different. The older I get the more I find myself returning again and again to one particular year. It was 1988 and I was nineteen. I was a country girl from Healesville on the outskirts of Melbourne, the eldest of three daughters. Dad was a vet at Healesville...
My friend Beth and myself had started a part time beauty class, the coming weekend Beth had an exam on her massage knowledge and technique, Beth asked if I would be her partner, I accepted as I hoped she would be mine the following week. Beth was a natural beauty, blonde with green eyes and a slim perky body, I am what I like to call curvy and petite, with d...
Jelena, I bet you just didn't know how surprised you looked when I walked into that shop! I knew you were working there. Your mother had told mine, and she told me when I went home for Easter. The way that word gets round in home towns. A lovely job, my mum said. You were training to become chief buyer for the whole chain. In the meantime, there you were, se...
It was just one of those nights, when I wanted more than your average one-night stand could give me. I was really tired of one-night stands; literally, since such an event had occurred the night before, with an insignificant girl, whose name I couldn't even begin to remember, and despite all her better efforts, I had fallen on the bed, tired yet unsatisfied....
Nancy had asked Denise to join her at the pool. She looked incredible -- Nancy was laying on a chaise lounge wearing a skimpy black bikini that barely covered anything -- even the lips of her pussy were slightly visible. Her firm, round tits were barely supported by the little scrap of black fabric that was tied around her neck, and Denise could see her nip...
Madame Lambert looked like the pictures one saw in the fashion news but she looked more tired in person. She was nearing 80 years old and the fashion empire that she had built was thriving but she was still active, creating new products and new lines of clothing. The reason I met her was that she was looking for an older model (35-40) to be the face of a new...
It didn't take long for the giddiness in getting to make out with Tamara to be completely ruined by my resident paranoia. Was she toying with me? It didn't seem like it. She genuinely seemed to be on good terms with her butler and Maria, that's a plus for her. She was not snobby and appeared to be pleased when I commented on her art work rather than the size...
Nervous, I check my watch. Just fucking great. I'm going to be late for my first appointment. I straighten my short black hair and smooth my plain khaki skirt over my knees. Maybe I should have just driven myself instead of taking the DART. If I wasn't such a prude, I wouldn't have cared if anyone saw my car sitting outside her place. I try to look innocent...
When Jennifer closed the door, I felt as though the lights went out in the world. There was such an incredible emptiness in my heart that I was sure I'd die soon. I didn't care if the projects were finished, or if I even returned to school at all. It all seemed so pointless. I never turned a light on that day and only got up to use the rest room. Food didn...
I'd always had a thing for artists. What was it about them? Not their looks—that's for sure. Didn't matter what a guy looked like, whether he was embarrassingly young or decrepitly old, big or small in any direction. If he was an artist, I was into him. From afar. I never had the confidence to actually approach a guy. I figured I wasn't an artist's type. S...