It was only my second day on the job, and I was alone in the antique shop when the boss’s wife sauntered in and introduced herself. I was surprised that she was in her mid-twenties, which made her half the age of her gray-haired husband, Pete.
“So you want to be a porn star, huh?” I asked the babe who had just placed her bottom on the wooden chair next to the desk where I was sitting. She flipped one leg over the other, and her skirt hiked up to expose a long expanse of lickable thigh
Jennifer saw him when she was seated at Starbucks on her way to Macy’s for some Saturday shopping. He was just a shade younger, but not too young. Slim. Nice eyes. A pleasant mouth. Maybe 24, she guessed.
Jen was 26, had dark hair that
Ilona was bored. Her gaze drifted from the computer screen in front of her to the new guy who had just started work that morning and now stood in the aisle between the cubicles. He was facing the other way, and Ilona studied his butt. In his well-