Chapter 2
Brenda Wood was beautiful-not voluptuous, nor attractive-just beautiful. Brenda was all things to all people. Vassar, Kansas, Manhattan, Paris-the girl would fit anywhere. Ait nineteen, she could easily pass for twenty-five, and when she became twenty-five, she would be able to palm herself off for nineteen with equal ease. All this was made possible by the rare combination of a girl's face and woman's passion-packed body. That Brenda Wood was the epitome of sexuality for every male who saw her as a foregone conclusion; she was that, and more-white, high-thrust breasts pushing against her sweater; tapered waist accentuating the soft, yet sudden curve of hips and buttocks ; thighs, solid and of generous length surging against the tight skirt. In essence, everybody wanted to boff
