Would the apartment be empty when I got in? I open the apartment door, hanging my coat up. The apartment is silent, I make my way to the bedroom, pull...ng the sheets back, and slip off my shoes. Why do I have these fantasies about her, she’s not my type, I’m married, my husband is a good man, our sex life is quite good. I’ve never been with a woman, yet she is my one fantasy. As I lay back on the bed, I picture her, her shapely legs, her nylon stockings, her breasts encased in her lace bra, her. I caught a quick glimpse of Vanessa jumping up from her stool, as I ran and knocked at the front door, hoping I might still be able to salvage the situation. When Vanessa opened the door she was wearing the towel around her waist. Above her pink bodice a rather large expanse of pale, freckled bosom was exposed, heaving deliciously in her current state of agitation. ‘It’s only me,’ I said, in the vain hope that, if I played it cool, she would think that the face in the window was a figment of. More

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