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CHAPTER ONE

Lindy

I struggled into rown a lot in the last year, horizontally mostly, and my boobs, which had been tiny before noent out to here, while lass, sassy, curvy, busting out in all places

But I sighed What choice did I have? It was my parents’ twentieth anniversary and I’d rushed ho and trying to do well that I hadn’t had a chance to buy ain Okay, well if I hiked the top up a little at the neck, and made sure the butt part stayed down, at leastany accidents, any slippery mishaps, I’d be okay

So I sighed again, turning away from the mirror in my childhood bedroom Yep, the space was exactly as I’d left it last year, a blast fro all the tie and the rooe bookshelf filled with textbooks and “serious” reading like Charles Dickens and some Russian authors whose naure

But despite the boring exterior, I’irl … it’s just fun of a personal kind Because I got a Kindle for Christmas and suddenly there was unlihty stories, stea myself to heaven as I devoured the words, ate up the dirty pictures and videos So I was the proverbial good girl with a bad side – innocent on the outside but filthy within

But I shook ht, back to business This swih it was athat was supposed to cover real acreage, totally appropriate for a fa The problem was me, there was so much ofthis way and that, creathe roo downstairs to the kitchen and glancing through the backto the patio outside

The party was already in full swing, people splashing in the pool,up a stored couples in their forties, wrinkled and tired

But then I saw him Christopher Jones was h I think he was actually a few years younger than my dad I’d always had a crush on hi hied thatfast, knees literally going weak because the eous and do from the water

Rivulets of liquid sluiced off his hard muscles, his arht, level with the pool’s edge beforeto stand on the deck He was like a warrior come to life, his body muscled, perfectly proportioned, those broad shoulders tapering into a narroaist, the thick, heavy thighs And as if feeling, warout of sight Oh ht, a reflection of thepane?

It was iled suddenly, wetly od, how did Mr Jones do this to me? There were boys at school who’d been interested but they did nothing, I’d shared a couple kisses, wet and slobbery, and a few had felt up rabbed fistfuls of breastflesh,

But I kneith certainty that Mr Jones would be coe, square hands, dripping ater andwithin ile on ain,him for more