He staggered and braced a hip, still lean and symmetrical despite middle age, against the bedrail. My God! She was beautiful! Exceptional! His eyes travelled from her graceful feet up her long, athletic legs to her hips. In the pale light, her skin gleamed into his eyes like mother of pearl, almost blinding him.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at that special place. His eyes skirted it, not looking, travelling further upward … to those amazing, unnatural breasts. He knew they were real – had watched them jiggle uncontrollably when she’d walked across the room in the astronomically high heels Mr. Smith made her wear. Yet he could not conceive of natural mammaries that large, except on cows waiting to be milked.
And the n*****s! He wondered if she’d been born that way, with n*****s as lo
