There was stillsome body left but the crisp controlled movements of my cut did notfollow my wishes. Not knowing really what to do I took a few rollers...fromthe set Claudette had given me and while my hair was still damp, I rolledas best I could some rollers into the lower sides of my do. I hoped thatthis little help would bring back the sexy underoll on my silver pageboy.Besides I felt soooo cute wandering around the apartment with even a fewcurlers in my hair. I so wished Claudette would come. .. he dropped off his clothes on the fly. Shower, a quick one. He had the advantage ... his clothes were already laid out on his bunk. Well ... he had laid them out..."Junior!" Yes Captain?" She thrust open his door, "Oops." She slammed it again. "What?" My clothes..." I put them in the laundry." You washed them?" Yes." Dried in the dryer?" Yes." Shit and fall back in it! They were dry-clean only." I found that out ... after. They look funny." Oh God!"It is unknown how she did it ... women are. Fortunately i was busy cooking so i didn't have much time to stare at how well she was filling out her jeans and t-shirt, but even a casual glance couldn't miss that. she was packing lots of ass and tits for her to be barely 5 feet tall, but was very nicely proportioned. with that sort of inspiration, i stepped my kitchen game up a few notches, and along with the wine, she was butterscotch flavored putty in my hands. well...more like i was putty in her hands, then in her mouth. have i mentioned. When they finally gave up, they shook their heads and kicked themselves as they headed back to the stairs. The photographer tightened the strap of his camera bag then leaped onto his motorcycle. He pulled on his helmet, revved the engine, and raced off with a squeal. After a few blocks, he looked back and saw a tired Jones and Kaldwell coming out of the front entrance of the building. The photographer’s name was John DeSalvo. He worked for the ‘Star Tribune’, the highest circulating paper in.
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