Outside the just fallen night was broken by the orange glow of radiant and buzzing street lamps all the way up the road as far as I could see. Other t...an the occasional car horn, the night seemed still and perfect.I was startled by a knock on my open office door. It was Julie, my assistant, who was working as late as I was. Though I have recalled some quite wild tails in these past chapters of this journal, the truth is that I still have to maintain and do paperwork like everyone else out. Tiny is the word I would use to describe her.Me, I'm totally the opposite of my angel. Older forty-something, Divorced Caucasian male. Slight Budweiser beer belly, long blonde hair with blue eyes. I'm six foot and two hundred and twenty pounds. I tower over her small frame.My name is Tom and I was raised by my dad who swore by the words, “The races aren't supposed to be mixed”. Don't get me wrong, Dad wasn't racist in the least, he never preached hate. But he believed there were too many. She ushers me into the kitchen and wastes no time pulling the t-shirt above her head and off. It is quickly followed by her black lacy bra. “These, are what you wanted to see I believe.” She looked down at her pendulous breasts and then up at me. Her breasts were on the large side, just the way I like them, high and firm with large nipples. Calmly she walked over and took the ice cream off me, removed the lid and smeared the softening vanilla all over her boobs. “Are you hungry?” “Starving.”. Returning to the car I studied the local maps, the clifftops in the distance were a beckoning sight but were marked ‘Private Land’. Taking a chance we drove up to the nearby Farmhouse to seek permission to picnic on the clifftops. My knocking at the door was met by a gentle-looking scolarly-type farmer,enquiring as to our quest to picnic on his property he looked across to the car, from which Karen had just alighted, whereupon espying her, appeared to be instantly mesermized. Whilst I was.
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