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Gloria Wilson slid into bed with her latest lover, still thinking about the day’s business receipts. It had been a very successful week at the modeling agency she owned and managed, and she couldn’t help imagining the nice effect that was going to have on her bank account.
“Hello, are you, there?” Mel asked.
“Mmmm?” Gloria said.
Mel, a burly, hairy-chest man in his fifties, propped himself on an elbow and gave Gloria a rueful grin. “I had the impression we were here to fuck,” he said, “but all I see in your beautiful green eyes are dollar signs.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mel,” Gloria sighed. “It’s hard for me to leave my business at the office.”
“Tell me about it,” Mel said. “Well, maybe I can get your mind on something else.”
He drew down the covers and eyed Gloria’s fantastic naked body. He was one of the few people who knew her real age — forty-eight — but even to him she didn’t look a day over thirty, not even with all of her clothes off. She was a tall leggy woman with long thick reddish-brown hair and the kind of figure that makes men stop and stare in the streets. Mel got horny every time he looked at her.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.