ALEKSANDER
There is no way to put it, except heart meet system malfunction two because Jessica Beer smells, sounds, looks and no doubt tastes and feels like velvet heaven.
“Fancy party,” her martini glass is on half.
“The Great Gatsby,” I keep my eyes on her hands.
She is holding a black feather clutch and red sheer gloves. She must not be wearing them because her injured hand is still covered in a nude compression garment.
I have to say, I now understand Samson’s dilemma because to get me off my stammering my mother, who has never set foot in a church except for weddings and funerals, made me read bible stories.
Yes, those.
The one that stands out now as I finally make eye contact with my house sitter, is the story of a roof bathing woman, named Delilah. Her beauty in the moon
