Mall Photo

Chapter 1
Mall Photo

Mall Photos

By

Marathon Dan

Marathon_dan@yahoo.com

They call me Dina. It’s a common name that hints at my family’s heritage from the Middle East. A very common Hebrew and Arabic name. Of course my long dark black hair and olive complexion and voluptuous figure are something of a hint also. I’m a 3rd generation American, now running my family business in a large suburban Southern California Mall. Dina’s Glamour Photography. All those years of College education down the drain to run my family business. I’m pretty much a force of one. There is no other staff besides me. Mom and dad have long since retired and are enjoying the “good life”. They worry about me, an “old maid” of 28, go figure. Mom always like to needle me, telling me how Sabta (Grandmother), had mom and her two brothers by the time she was 20. Ok, so I’m almost a decade behind schedule, but I can deal with it. Besides, guys are not my priority and not always my first pick. Ok, Ok, I know, but sometimes I do like the ladies. I mean, doesn’t everyone? Besides, as everyone knows, love is the greatest magic of all and most mysterious. It defies reason and logic and is truly blind. But when you find it, you certainly know it. I’m told it’s like getting hit with a thunderbolt. Guess I’ve missed the storm so far and it’s not even drizzling around here, lol. I am told that when the thunderbolt hits and the rain falls, I will have no trouble realizing it. It has been dry for so long, I’d be happy with some fog.

Now, as far as magic goes, funny you should ask. Not funny as in “ha-ha”, but funny interesting. My families other talent is just that, magic. Not pulling rabbits out of hats or cheap card tricks, but real hocus-pocus stuff. Where did we get the talent? I can’t say, simply because I don’t know. My mom tells me that it tends to run through the women of the family, although sometimes the guys get the gift also. When it became clear at an early age that I had the “talent”, mom and Sabta began to train me and teach me. But they always taught “safety first”. Mom used to compare using magic to riding a bike or being on roller skates. When you are riding smooth and under control, you could feel the magic moving and working without effort. When you get too excited and lose control, it’s like falling off a bike moving fast. It hurts and you can’t be too sure where you will land or what will happen when you do. Sometimes I can get a glimpse into the future. Like I can see someone and know that in 6 months they will get a promotion or get a really bad haircut. Now, if I could just look at a lotto machine and pick out some numbers, that would be something. But the glimpses into the future are not that common and not under control. Certainly, there are all kinds of magic. You may have heard the phrase “practical magic”? That is the common “everyday” stuff. Like my girl friend Judy, she loves to cook and is a whiz in the kitchen. You think cooking well isn’t magic? Please, if you don’t think it is, then I have some relatives to introduce you to, but I warn you, just don’t eat at their homes. Sewing, knitting and similar talents are examples of “practical magic”. On the other extreme is, what Master Yoda and Obi-Wan so aptly put, “the dark side”. Need I explain that to you? Does the word “evil” mean anything to you? I avoid the “Dark Side” at all costs. What I dabble in is “white” magic. You often hear of reward and punishment? I don’t do punishment or judgments. Way too complex and complicated and even dangerous. You really have to be judge and jury and dig way too deep. And I hate the idea of punishing people. I just don’t have the heart or strength. But what I do enjoy doing and I don’t do it too often, is “reward” or maybe “blessing” is a better choice of verbiage.

When customers come into my business, I love to interview them, find out what they are about and what they want the photos to show and do and inspire. Hearing people’s life stories and histories is interesting and fun. It gives me a sense of the person and let’s me do my job of photography better. You want some examples? Okie dokie, a man comes in for a photo session and remarks that he remembers when his hairline was lower on his forehead. If he’s a nice guy and I get the sense of his life, I have been known to restore his hairline to what it was when he was 25. Think of it as super advanced Adobe or PhotoShop. I do not play with their minds or character, who they are, is who they are or who they will be. Playing with their minds and personalities is a real dangerous thing. You truly never know where that will take you or how it will end up or what the consequences might be. At best, I make my cosmetic changes and their basic personalities still exist and conform to them. You can’t magically create love for example. And trying to alter a person’s personality is very deep, complex and frankly scary stuff. No, whenever I do a “retouching”, it’s merely cosmetic. I do not change who they are and who they will be. Besides, you start playing with the mental and you never know what might be under the rocks in some people’s head. You turn over the rock and all kinds of bugs can come scurrying out. I never let the client know I’m “enhancing” or “touching up”. For the right customer, I’ve been fairly easy going and liberal on “editing and touchup”. And I don’t charge a surcharge for it either. Clearly I was not a very good business major at the university.

I’ll give you an example; recently I had a lady of about 47 or 48 come into my shop. She wanted a glamour photo of herself, a very normal request. As we talked, her name was Stephanie; she explained that her husband and she had not been as affectionate as when they were younger. Stephanie admitted she had not maintained herself well and wanted to be more attractive to him. She wanted to give him a new and somewhat exciting glamour’s picture in a silver frame. She hoped this would make him see her in a new light and maybe regain some of the old magic. I offered her a cup of coffee, a special blend designed just for her, in a large mug.

“It’s a Mexican blend, little sweet with a hint of cinnamon. I hope you like it. In my experience, a beverage tends to relax my clients and allows them to photograph much more natural”; I smiled to her as I offered the mug. Stephanie took a sip and smiled at me, remarking how nice it tasted, how she could feel it warming her tummy. And she began to relax, as the “coffee” took effect. She was not denying her age. Her shoulder length hair had a hint or two or maybe three of salt in the somewhat faded brown. Her arms were not flabby, but lacked the firmness of a younger woman. Her tummy was not the flatness of a teen and her bottom lacked the curve and firmness it once had. As we talked, she explained she wanted to be photographed in a simple black dress. A classic and classy type picture. She wanted to show her feminine side, but not look trashy and to make her husband look at her with pride and desire. I nodded as I took notes. She wanted a little break and diversion from her job as a Special Education teacher. She worked with students with various degrees of mental infirmities, such as autism. Just hearing that almost brought a tear to my eye. What a difficult job and how demanding! Her students were between 8 and 10 years old. I thought to myself, what compassion and patience she must bring each day to work everyday.

“Stephanie, I have just the things you want in my wardrobe in the next room. I am certain we can fit you and make the photos you want. And have them be ones your husband will treasure. Just trust my judgment, ok”? I sweetly asked her. She looked at me alittle confused, but agreed and followed me to the studio. I handed her a simple black dress. She looked dubiously at me.

“I don’t think this is my size. It looks alittle short and I’m not certain I have the shoulders or bust for this? (She shook her head at the garment). Are you sure about this”? Stephanie questioned, eyes narrowed to slits, “I don’t want to look stupid or like a cow or something”.

I batted my eyes at her, “Honey, just think how you would like to look. Think about how you would like to be seen, how you want your husband to see you. What’s his name”?

“David, his name is David, my loyal and loving guy after 26 years and 2 kids, we finally get some space to ourselves”, she smiled at the thought of him and their life together. I could see she was feeling the “coffee”, as she continued and changed into the dress. The dress hung on her in some places and didn’t cover other places. “Dave is a wonderful man. He helps me around the house, he cooks and cleans. He makes a tasty meatloaf”, she smiled at the memories of a lifetime of love and sharing.

“Very nice, he sounds wonderful”, I said as I prepared the camera.

Stephanie looked in the mirror and adjusted herself. “He’s so handsome, even after all these years. I love waking up and looking at him. He’s smart and handy around the house. But he simply does not look at me like he used to. I want to maybe use a glamour photo to spark something. Maybe rekindle things between us”. I had her start to move toward the blue background and started taking pictures. Hearing about her and her life and her career, I had already decided to help the photos out abit. Hey, I’m only human; she seemed a saint and deserving, how could I resist?

“Stephanie, you look great. Now, I want you to think about how you want to look and be seen. I want you to tell me about it. Tell me, tell the camera how you want to be seen by the lens”, I said as I walked to a side and took a shot. I could see her eyes looked alittle glazed, as the “coffee” was relaxing her and helping her to open up to my suggestions and me.

Stephanie got a thoughtful look on her face and giggled, “I feel foolish, but ok”.

I took another picture, “it’s not foolish. You are paying me very good money for this session. (We both giggled like schoolgirls). So be open and truthful, don’t be shy and don’t be afraid of saying what you desire”. I put a little extra push on the last word. I circled her and she began to talk, her voice gaining strength as she spoke and lost her fear and inhibition.

“Well, Dina, I’d like my hair to be back to the color I got married in, a darker richer brown. (I nodded as she said this and the luster returned to her hair as it grew thicker and the grey faded away and disappeared). And try as I might, I can’t seem to be rid of these “bat wings” under my arms. My triceps seem to have gone south for the winter. I feel embarrassed raising my arms or wearing short sleeves or sleeveless like this dress”, she giggled.

“Oh no Stephanie, you look great. Trust me on that”, I said as I stalked her around the room. And painlessly and without fuss, her arms toned up. The muscles regained texture and strength, and flexibility, the excess skin and fat lost to thin air. Her shoulders grew more defined, as I smiled and directed the magic her way.

“Well, as long as I’m dreaming, I really liked how I looked in my early 30s. Not like a kid, but like a grown woman. I really thought I looked my best then.” she remarked. I was amazed at the thought and maturity of her comment. Most women would want to be teenagers again, but clearly Stephanie had thought about this some.

“Would you change anything about that? About how you looked”, I asked as I adjusted the camera.

Stephanie put her hands on her hips and considered this. “I’d be lying if I said there was nothing I’d change. (I nodded and waited). You’ll laugh at me”, she frowned.

“No, no I won’t Steph. Scout’s honor”, I raised my hand and swore.

She looked at me and almost whispered like a conspirator, “I’d like bigger boobs. (She giggled). Not super huge, not Dolly Parton, but I’ve always been on the small to average side. I’d love to see myself with something larger then my current 36B. Maybe a full C? And I’d like my waist back to what it was then and my butt not as wide as it is now. There are days I feel like my butt needs 2 seats to sit on. (She giggled and patted her rear). I remember not being able to cover an entire sofa with thing. (She broke into peals of giggles and I joined her). I mean, as long as I’m dreaming right”? She mused out loud. And I smiled as she reached for another sip of the coffee and the magic slowly worked itself on her. The dress that had been so poorly fitted began to mold itself to her rapidly revising body. She felt nothing, no tingling or pain or dizziness. I distracted her, by asking her about her work and the students she taught. I watched as she stood, her hands on her hips, telling me about teaching her students, as I prepared the next group of shots. I stole a glace at her body.

Her legs had lost the middle age look. The varicose veins faded and her “cottage cheese” dissipated, leaving her legs long and sleek. Stephanie’s butt rose and tightened and reduced. Round yet firm and not as wide as it had been the moment before. Her hips were the full curve of a woman, but not overly wide. The dress drew into and gathered at her new waist, smaller and slimmer then before, her tummy flat. Her cleavage rose and firmed. Her bust grew into two distinctly full globes of flesh. Like the 3 bears and Goldilocks, I giggled to myself, not too big and not too small. Firm and pleasing to the eye, they were a balance to her hips and waist. Her figure was not that of a teenager or even a young woman, but rather a mature beauty that comes from being comfortable with oneself and their life. Without thinking, she bent to adjust the strap on her shoe and caught herself in surprise.

“OH MY GOSH!! (She zoomed her words). Dina!! What’s happening here? I have not been able to bend like that in years. My back tends to get stiff, my waist won’t bend anymore and I normally put my foot on a bench to tie my shoes”. She asked in wonder. Her eyes drifted to the mirror and she gasped. “Dina, what’s going on here? Who is that in the mirror? (She allowed her hands to wander down her flanks and even lightly cup her fuller breasts). I’ve never looked like this, ever in my life” and she turned to look at me.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about”, I said as I secured the camera. “Stephanie, you look lovely and your husband is a very lucky man. All I know is a perfectly lovely lady came into my shop and paid me to take some photos for her husband to enjoy and display. And what man wouldn’t want to display and value a woman as lovely and excuse me if I say so, sexy as you”?

Stephanie looked again at herself in the mirror, as the magic continued its work and her reality shifted ever so slightly. “Of course, I’m so sorry Dina. The heat from the lamps must be playing havoc with my mind and eyes. (Stephanie shook her head from side to side, as if to clear the fog out). Let me pay you half now, as deposit. You said I’d get the proofs in my email to look over”? She changed back into her street clothes. Which somehow now fit her new improved figure. As an added bonus, since I did so like working with her, I helped David some also. I just knew that Stephanie would enjoy it if David had the tummy he had at 30 and his hairline restored. Oh and being something of a fresh and naughty girl, I made his organ just a little larger, what’s an extra inch or two between friends? I was pretty sure Stephanie would not complain. And if David could climax again and again, I was fairly certain that would be ok also, with both of them. After all, marital bliss and affection is part of peace in the home, isn’t it?

Part of having a mall location is that you see all kinds of human behavior or lack thereof. People watching should be a varsity sport here; I would for sure get my “Letter” in it. And some very strange creatures tend to come here. We get the early morning mallus walkerous or more commonly called, “mall walkers”. This species is most commonly senior citizen types and seen just after opening, early in the day. During the lunch hour, we get overrun with the eatus fastus on runis species, which is the eating on the run lunch crowd. This species is most often YUPPIE in appearance. Something about watching a Junior Executive “wannabe”, wolfing down a “mall-burger” and trying not to drip grease or mustard on his white shirt that always brings a smile to my face and provides some comedy.

It was a lovely spring day, a day when nobody, including yours truly, should be inside a mall. I was puttering around in the studio, nothing too important or vital, but those jobs and chores one puts off when they are busier. It being a slow weekend, I was attempting to battle my lazy nature and make some progress on those tasks. Then, I was saved from that drudgery by the bell. I mean that literally, the door opening up in front triggers one of those very annoying electronic “ding dong” type bells, letting me know that some one had opened my door. Maybe not customers, but at least some allegedly human contact.

I stepped out of the back area and saw them. I made an immediate ID on them, mallus ratus californus, the common California mall rat, these were female juveniles, and I guessed the median age at 14. As is common for the species, they were traveling in a pack. They almost never appear in single units. The young males might, but the females tend to exhibit true pack behavior, traveling in groups of at least 3 and commonly as many as 7 young females. The pack gives them the illusion of safety and protection. Often upon reaching 18 years of age, the females begin to travel in pairs, not packs, but I digress. This pack was typical for the time of year, 4 females in typical outfits. They had the look of convicts set free and with school having ended for the year shortly before, it was not surprising. Somewhat of an odd assortment, two were twins and one of the twins and one of the other girls were wearing school t-shirts from the local middle school. The twins had that look of being 14 going on 12. They were short and very slender, bordering on skinny. While from their faces I guessed 14 and just completed with Middle School, they had the figures of 12 yr olds. Thank goodness they were not dressed alike, that would have been just a little too weird. They both were in shorts, one in tennis shoes, one in “flip-flops”. They were maybe 5’2” tall, maybe, with thick-soled shoes. I thought of them as somewhat “birdlike”, the thin legs and generally flat figures gave me that impression. Cute as cute could be, but they had the figures of girls at least 2 years younger. The next girl was taller, by maybe 3 inches. She really looked the part. She looked like the girl next store and how a 14yr girl should look. Not too tall, not too short. Not dressed like a stripper and not too curvy. But she clearly had the promise of being quite the looker by the time of her sweet 16 party. She was wearing the school shirt and denim shorts that displayed a nice set of legs and long blond hair. Very California Girl looking. There are times I think blonds are grown in Southern California for export. The last girl was a paradox. She was easily the tallest, almost my own height of 5’9, she was just a trifle shorter then me. Her clothes were like modified grunge. They were very baggy and drab in color and appearance. For accessories, she had a rather beaten up denim purse, that had seen better days. Maybe Thrift Shop chic was the look she was striving toward? Her long dark hair needed a good brushing and a trim. But what hit me was that it was all like a mask or illusion she was hiding behind. Even in the very baggy clothes and ugly as they were, it was clear there was a swan under there, maybe deep under there, but under there for sure. I could detect more then a hint of a very developed figure, and a bust that was much larger then it should be at her age. Her bone structure was stunning. She needed some makeup and even before that, a general boost of confidence, but the girl had potential.

Entering my store, they went in 4 different directions, each looking at various pictures and photos I have on display and at the different poses other customers had used. The blond noticed me first and alerted her friends to my presence. They reformed into a group, you know, safety in numbers when facing the unknown and I smiled at them.

“What can I do for you ladies this sunny day”, I asked as I stood by the cash register. The tall one broke from the pack first and spoke to me.

“I’d like a glamour shot. Something showing me as more grown up. I need to change how I’m seen”, she said.

“I can do that, but tell me more about what the picture is for and who is going to see it and such. Is it a gift or just something for yourself to enjoy and marvel at”? I asked casually. They all giggled and tittered amongst themselves. One of the twins piped up, “My cousin wants to show her dad that she’s sooo grown up and mature. He still thinks she’s a little girl”, and they all giggled again. “You’d think he’d notice those big boobs of her’s or something”, the other twin added and they all laughed, except for the tall girl who looked rather embarrassed by the remark. “Honestly, you would think she would share her treasure chest with her two favorite cousins. It’s not fair that she gets all the boobs and we get nothing”, the first twin tagged on. The tall girl reached over and patted the two girls on the head like puppy dogs. “It’s not where you start, but where you finish. I know it bugs you, but this will pass. I mean, just look at your mom. Lot’s of heredity there”, she said to them. “What do you think Debbie”? She asked of the blond girl.

Debbie flashed a bright smile and said, “oh for sure! (I inwardly groaned and giggled, like how valley girl can you get)? Remember I was short and flat last year and then like, shazaam! Instant boobies”, and they all giggled uncontrollably. Just then, a cell phone gave off its annoying jiggle; in this case the “ring” was that of a chicken clucking. I wondered who thought that was a good idea? The tall girl took the worn purse and opened it and answered the clucking phone.

“Yes Mrs. Silverberg, we will be out in front of Sears at 3:30”, she said into the phone and hung up. “That was your mom, Debbie, she was reminding us to be ready to go on time, so I guess we better hurry up”, she said taking charge and turning to me. “What I want is a glamour photo to show my dad how I’m not a kid anymore. He seems to think that I’m still 8 years old. I want to change that picture in his mind. Think you can deal with that? Is it something you can do”? She asked. She put her hands on her hips, drawing my attention to their shape and generous lushness, not quite hidden by her attire. There was something in her manner, not rude, but rather the attitude of someone taking charge and wanting answers. Something in her manner and bearing was pushing hard on my buttons, or was it lust pure and simple? There was something in her attitude and face and eyes and yes, her body that was sure getting my attention. Pervert, I thought to myself. I nodded my head and put on my best and brightest sales chick smile. “I’m sure I can, before we start, what are your names please”?

The tall girl nodded and pointed at the blonde, “This is my friend Debbie. The twins are my cousins Leah and Tamar. My name is Shoshana”.

One of the twins, I think it was Tamar burst out, “But her dad calls her katonton” and they giggled again, much to Shoshana’s consternation. I had to giggle too and Shoshana rolled her eyes and then looked at me, “Did you hear something funny”? She glared at me with intense green eyes.

Tamar, I think it was Tamar, they looked so much alike, jumped in, “Shoshana, chill out. You don’t have to be in attack mode all the time. (Turning to me Tamar continued), she thinks she needs to be so assertive, like whatever”.

I stopped laughing and said, “oh no, but, Katonton, which means “little one”, seems out of place”. They all looked at me and Leah, (I think it was Leah) inquired, “Are you a MOTT”? They silently waited for me to answer.

“Yes, if you mean “member of the tribe”, yes, yes I am”, I smiled at them.

They visibly relaxed, like they were in a family member’s home. Then I figured it was time I became Professional Woman and take charge and take their money. Hey, I did pay attention that day in class at Business School. The first lesson they taught us was, Rule #1, when in doubt, take the customers money.

“Okie dokie, I need to get with Shoshana to get this set up. Yes, I definitely have some ideas how to do the shots you want, but I like to go over ideas together. I’m going to give the three of you coupons for Big Ben’s Frozen Drinks. Ben is a friend and his wife is my customer. I’m going to need about 45 minutes with Shoshana in the studio. And no, I never, ever work with an audience”. I firmly told them all. I handed out the coupons and shooed them from the store, locking the door, but giving Tamar a key, with firm instructions not to return for 45 minutes. I put the sign in the window, saying I’d be back in an hour, something I commonly do when I’m in a photo session. Hey, genius needs to work without interruption. Taking Shoshana’s hand, I walked her to the studio and explained. “When I work with a client, I can’t be running back and forth to the door. The client deserves private, dedicated time and I need to focus to do my best. Now we are free for a while. First off, do you prefer to be called Shoshana, Shosie, Rose or Katonton”? I asked as I opened the studio closet.

“My friends call me Shosie”, she simply stated, sitting down on a stool, brushing down her top, and drawing attention inadvertently to her bust. She was large, large for a young girl and large for a Playboy model. Mentally, I slapped myself in the face, reminding myself this was a paying customer and a child!! I opened my mini refrigerator and poured her a “lemonade”. “Shosie, here, it’s my family recipe, Limon-Nana”, I told her as I handed her the plastic glass.

“Oh, you mean mint-lemonade? I love it”, she smiled and too a sip. “It’s very good”.

“Thanks Shosie, I like to offer my clients a drink as we talk and plan. I’m very glad you like it”, continuing I said, “Now, tell me about you and this photo you want”.

And she began talking as she sipped my concoction. Naturally the “mint-lemonade” loosened her tongue and she spoke freely. Her situation was not uncommon. Her father still viewed her as a child. How many parents don’t see or admit to seeing their children growing up? I know mine didn’t. I was 17 and getting ready for college and I think mom wanted to buy me a doll for my birthday, uggh!! Her mother had died early of cancer when she was 9 and her father refused to start dating or seeing other ladies. He seemed to think he owed it to Shoshana not to see anyone till she was out of the house. Shosie’s favorite subjects were in the sciences. She loved Biology and was taking Chemistry in the next school year. She loved very much her cousins and Debbie, as they provided the female company her mother might have. She was very devoted to her father, but wanted to see him happy and not lonely or alone.

“So, Shosie, how do you like the drink”? I asked her and looked at her eyes. They were ever so slightly glazed. “And how do you want to do this? Classy? Slut City? Or something in-between”?

She giggled at my saying Slut City. “Umm, the limon-nana is very good. I remember my mom making it. For the photos, umm, I think Slutty is out, but it is tempting, but it’s not me. When you say Classy, what does that mean”?

“I think I should have said classic. A woman can look sexy and still look classy. What I am picturing is a very grown up yet sexy look. Sexy but not slutty. With your skin color and eyes, I am thinking sultry actually. I do believe I have the items in the studio to pull it off and your father will be very impressed”, I answered her.

Shosie took a last pull on her drink and wiped her moist lips with a napkin. Why did I find that act so fascinating and intriguing? Why was I admiring how full her lips looked? My use of the word sultry seemed to please her greatly. She stood and looked in the mirror and then at me.

“Ok, let’s do it. The clock is ticking”, she declared firmly. As we walked to the studio section I asked her, “are you always this assertive? Does it come naturally to you”?

She turned to me, “Well, yeah. With mom gone a lot of the household stuff fell to me. I found out early that the world reacts better if you act like you know what you are doing and know what you want. I’ve learned the hard way, if you want something, don’t be shy about it or you might lose it.” I motioned for Shosie to sit on a stool as I pulled items out of the wardrobe and held them up, as if to size them. I really was not worried about sizes. I’d make the required adjustments to them as needed. Before Shoshana’s slightly dazed eyes, I pulled out an entire ensemble.

“Wow, that was quick. What is all that? What do you have in mind”? She asked while she looked at the heels I had pulled out for her.

“What I am thinking is something to work with your eyes and skin color first of all. I am thinking of your goal of looking more mature and looking good. My first thoughts go to an outfit/ensemble of black and white. Very solid, very classic and sexy. Are you game”? I asked, seeing if she would call my bluff. I had to admit, I was more then alittle curious to see how she would look in the ensemble I had assembled. Shoshana looked and it was obvious she was considering each item and garment and sipping the drink still. Finally she turned to me and said, “Let’s do it”.

I grinned like the cat that had caught the birdie, “Very cool. Let’s start with your feet and legs and work our way northward. I want you to take the disposable razor and quickly to the bathroom back there and give your legs a once over. The camera will pick up on stray hairs and make them look really bad. I’ll get the rest of the things ready for you”. I handed her the razor and some foam. “Don’t go too crazy, just a quick shave will do. Take of your pants and shoes, leave them on the countertop”.

Shoshana kicked off her shoes and was barefoot. “While you are in there, wash your feet too”, I quickly mentioned. She nodded shyly. The shoes were stored under the counter and she quickly undid her pants and turned from me and folded them. As I checked my camera, I checked her. Her legs were long and well formed. Calves nicely shaped and her thighs were full, more like a woman then a young teen. She was wearing a pair of Sear’s finest cotton for panties. Not very sexy, but functional. She stepped into the washroom and closed the door. Taking my time, I laid out the clothes. I heard the water run and the sound of paper towels being removed from the dispenser. After a few moments, the door opened. Shoshana stepped out. Her legs were now sleek and clean shaved. But I could see she had missed drying a few spots where some water drops remained. They would have to go, before she dressed. I swiftly unrolled a few sheets of the paper towels and motioned for her to step closer. “Shosie, I want to make sure you are dry. Water reflects the light”, I said softly. She looked at me and nodded and stepped closer and into the bright lights. Wadding the paper towels, I knelt down and ran the towels up her right leg. Feeling the curves and dips in the muscles and length of her thighs. I could feel how soft and smooth her legs were and the nicely toned muscle under the skin. My heart was beginning to beat faster and my nipples stiffened with minds of their own. Her legs dry and clean, I stood back and forced my breathing to come slower and my heart to stop pounding, she might hear it after all.

“Now Shosie, part of this glamour is feeling the part. That means getting dressed in a different ensemble then normal. Think of it like putting on a costume and getting into a role, like an actress, ok”? I asked.

She was dazed and was touching her thigh where I had dried it. Shoshana merely nodded. “Good, now the next step is carefully put on and pull up the nylons. They are a suntan color and will work with the shoes and skirt. After the nylons, put on the bikini style panties”, I instructed her.

“Why do I need different panties”? She whined at me.

“Silly girl, like I said, it’s about dressing for a role. You can’t get into the role of classy, sexy and sophisticated lady if you are wearing little girls underwear. It just does not fit the part”, I stated simply.

She looked at me, and her eyes were looking just alittle dazed and glassy. Not stoned, but perhaps not all there. “Oh, I see. That makes sense Dina, just give me the stuff and I’ll get dressed. Umm, I might need your help, the lights are making me feel warm and alittle dizzy, I’m sorry”, she smiled at me weakly. With that, she grabbed her panties and yanked them down, dropping them on top of her pants. I didn’t see her from the front, but her ass was lovely. Did I say I was jealous? Round and tight and high, humm, why was my mind wandering? I handed her the bikini panties and she put one leg through and then the other and lifted. With just a soft push, they fit her like they were custom made for her. “How do they fit”? I pointed to the panties.

“They’re great, very comfortable”, she said as she looked at them and ran her hands over them. Watching her feeling the fit was more then alittle erotic. He eyes seemed to clear somewhat. “What’s next”? She looked at me and asked.

What’s next? My nasty mind was beginning to move in directions that could land me as a guest of the taxpayers in jail, with a new girl friend named Martha. I made myself take a sip of water and handed her a black mini skirt. “Try this one on. It should also fit you. Your hips are about 35 inches? Waist about 25 or 26”? I passed the garment to her.

Shoshana stepped into the skirt and lifted it up and turned to me. “ Yeah, 35 hips, my waist is bigger then I’d like. (I stared but could not see where she was too wide. Clearly she looked in the mirror and saw double, like so many women). Can you please zip me in”? She asked with shy eyes. “Oh yeah, sure”, I said as I stepped up. I put one hand on her hip and the other on the zipper and lifted. As I lifted the zipper, the skirt molded to her lush hips, almost like a second skin. The tight skirt showed the lush curve of her hips and emphasized the tightness of her waist, in spite of what she said about it. Whatever else she was, she certainly was blessed with the classic hourglass shape of a woman. I stepped back and watched her. Her face looking down at the skirt and nylon encased legs. Her hands wandered from her waist to her hips and thighs. Did I say I was feeling flushed watching her. Did she have any idea of the effect she was having on me? Remembering that I was supposed to be the professional, I cleared my throat and continued.

“Ok, so far so good. You like? Feel comfortable”? I asked. Shoshana nodded a reply and looked at me. I reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of black high heels. High, but not too high, 3 inch heels. “Are you comfortable walking in heels”? I asked her.

Shoshana sat on the stool and put on the shoes. “Yes, I’ve played dress-up enough. These are alittle higher then what I’m used to, but I’ll give them a try”. She said as she adjusted the black straps and buckled them. She stood and took a few steps and nodded to me that they fit. I admired the way they made her legs look. So long and well, so very long. The angle of the heels drew attention to her round bottom, which I just happened to notice looked more then wonderful.

“Kewlio, now, lets go north of the waist and see to a blouse. Go ahead and take off your shirt and leave it next to the other things”, I motioned to her growing pile of clothes. With barely a nod, she took her shirt hem in her hands and lifted it up over her chest, neck and head. She dropped it on top of her pants and turned to me. I raised my hand to my chin and tapped my nose with my index finger, as I critically looked at her. In spite of her earlier remarks, her waist was defined, tight and in proportion to her height and weight. The mini skirt defined her lush hips and round ass. Her tummy was flat, not a “6-pack” but flat and toned. Her arms were tanned and nice. The bra she had on had to be one of the single ugliest bra’s I have ever seen. I know she was shopping without a mother and I’m sure that her dad was not going with her, but uggh. This one was plain cotton and looked like something the East German Woman’s Soccer team might use, if they were on a tight budget. Industrial was the verb that kept popping into my head. Harness was the other. She was still large, but it was like her breasts were in jail and solitary confinement at that. In short, the bra did absolutely nothing to flatter her at all.

“Well, Shosie, we definitely need to do a wardrobe change here. I am guessing you need a 34C”? I softly and gently inquired.

“Ah no, a D actually”, she blushed. “Why? What’s wrong with what I have on”?

A 34D? I thought, she was being restrained even more then I thought. “Shosie, like I said earlier, it’s like dressing for a role. What you are wearing is not contributing to making you look or feel the role you want to project. That’s why I have a wardrobe here, its part of my trade and job to have all kinds of items on hand. And by co-incidence, give me a sec and I’ll locate just the thing”, I told her and turned to my wardrobe closet. I rummaged for effect for a moment and pulled out a bra and made some “adjustments” to it. I corrected the size, making sure it had some under wire support and lots of lace. I stood and turned toward her and offered the garment. She looked at the lacy bra like it was road kill. “Dina, like are you sure? I’ve never worn anything like that. I mean.. Is it ok? Is it my size”? She asked like a child wanting permission.

I gave her a 1000-Watt smile and said, “Listen, this is part of the costume and since this is my store and place of business, I decide what’s OK and what’s not. I say it’s ok, but you need to try it on and then you need the blouse over it. After all, we are doing a glamour photo, not soft-core”, and we both giggled.

Shoshana shyly turned and removed her clumsy and ugly bra. I have to say, for such feminine object, it was about the most masculine bra I’d ever seen. Yeah, that’s a contradiction, but just trust me on it. I watched her struggle with getting her breasts into the cups of the lacy bra and then turned her head around and looked at me with a look of helplessness on her face. “Dina, I don’t want to seem like such a fucking ditzy chick, but I really need help with the hooks. Could you please”? She pleaded.

Could I please? Does the fox need an invitation to the henhouse? Could I please? Does Winny the Pooh like honey? “Sure Shosie, just turn and I’ll hook and adjust the fit for you. Let me know if it’s too snug”, I said as I took the two ends of the horizontal strap in my hands. I delicately hooked the ends together, on the middle set of hooks and eyes. I smoothed the straps, making them lay flat on her back and shoulders. Of course, I had to feel her skin. So soft like cloth and smooth like silk and warm like sun kissed sand on the beach. Her olive colored skin was like butter and I wanted to taste it. And then I reminded myself; there are laws against that sort of thing. Laws, morals, ethics and if all that failed, dealing with my own parents, yikes!! I forced my filthy mind to take a cold shower and return to actual business. “Is that too snug? I can adjust the fit if it is”? I inquired as I smoothed the strap across her right shoulder.

She turned to me and smiled, “No, it’s good. I’m surprised at how it feels, so light and so soft. So much better feeling on my skin the then cotton was. That one was too tight and almost uncomfortable. This is actually nice”, she said, as she turned and felt the fit. I watched her, nasty, evil and erotic thoughts filling my consciousness. The new bra was certainly much more feminine and sexy. It cupped her large breasts and lifted and separated them, creating full and deep cleavage. This month’s Playmate would have been jealous. Wordlessly, I handed her a white blouse. Shoshana put her arms through it and began to button it. I put out my hand and stopped her from buttoning it to the top, leaving the top three buttons undone. She tucked the blouse into the skirt and it further highlighted her tight waist. Her breasts were showcased, by the snug top and by the fact her cleavage poked out the open collar. It was more then the proverbial “hint” of cleavage. The tops of her breasts were like half globes and pushed the collar of the blouse to the sides. The snug clingy blouse fitted her form, if not like a second skin, then damn close to it. Her hips and shoulders created the hourglass effect, with her waist drawn in dramatically. The fullness of her bust merely added to her curvy figure and balanced the fullness of her hips. I motioned for her to sit on the stool. “Now we are almost done. I want to brush out your hair. No, I don’t think we will need any hairspray. I think hair looks best natural, don’t you? (She nodded to me). I’m also going to do some makeup and eyes and your lips. Don’t move, don’t breath”, I giggled at her. She nervously did the same. “Just hold still, this will take about 5 minutes, maybe 10”, I reminded her. I quickly brushed out her long thick hair. It felt soft and as I brushed it, so luxuriant. Her hair came to just below her shoulders and had a nice natural wave to it. I brushed it so it framed her face. She was purring like a big kitten as I brushed and was disappointed when I stopped. Gosh, I was sad to stop also. Moving to her face, I didn’t use much make up. Her skin tone was such that base and/or blush were really not needed. I had her close her eyes and I lightly put some eyeliner on and colored her lips with some lip-gloss. Not lipstick, I thought that would look too heavy. Stepping back, I admired my work and I must say so, I did some very good work. I smiled and told her to stand up.

“Can I look in the mirror”? She asked.

Feeling mischievous, I told her, “No, let’s get a few pictures while you feel natural and not self conscious. It may seem odd, but this is a real new look for you, I want you looking natural and unafraid. (I picked up my camera and drew the curtain over the mirror). Now, what I want you to do is walk from the left side of the room to the right side. Then walk back, as you walk back, look over your shoulder at me and smile. Be happy, have fun. Blow me a kiss even. (Oh, that made me feels warm). Be friendly to the camera and it will love you back”, I told her as I began to snap pictures. As she stood, she was tall, with long legs and curves from here to there. Her hair moved naturally and freely. I pointed and shot and shot. Her bust swayed slightly as she moved, the bra lifted her bust and allowed it to move slightly, in a natural fashion. I could see the muscles in her thighs and calves propelling her in long strides across the room. Her eyes were wide and playful. Turning away from me, I could see the movement of her bottom. Her ass appeared heart shaped and firm. Round and tight, but not too large, not a little girls butt, but a round woman’s ass. Remembering my words, she even turned her head around and blew me a kiss. Did I say my heart was thumping and beating rapidly? Did I say that I could feel the swell of my own nipples? My tongue licked my lips as I admired her body in motion. I had done more photo shoots then I could remember, but no one had ever made my body and mind and emotions respond like this one. This 14yr old girl. Wait, I thought as I shot her leaning toward me with a sexy smile and I saw the deep canyon between her breasts, is she a girl? Or is she more grown up then that? Is she a woman? And at that moment, the wheels began to turn and the magic I held in such tight control, began to spin and weave. Oh, I could feel it begin to move and flow. But did I do anything about it? Umm,,nope. I had done about 15 pictures and I offered Shoshana another drink. Another mistake, but I was already on that highway. Shoshana gratefully accepted a fresh drink and took a big gulp. That extra boost I’m sure played a part. Of course, the lust of yours truly had a large part to play also. Shoshana took a paper towel and wiped the sweat from her forehead. And apparently, being brought up with manners, she offered me the drink. Do you think mom warned me about that? You bet. But like a fool, I accepted the drink back and had a large sip before I realized what I was doing. I suspect it would have not made any difference in the long run. The drink merely lowered her and my resistance to emotions and hormones. It was supposed to lower inhibitions and it did its job well. I walked over to the mirror and put my hand on the curtain. “Do you want to see how you look before the pictures are ready”? I teased her. I could already feel myself begin to sweat and my mind was in overdrive. The waves of magic were starting to spin and I was not paying them any heed.

Shoshana bounced over to me and stood next to me and I playfully said, “ready? One, two, three”!! And I yanked the curtains wide. She stood transfixed, looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes wide, her left hand rose to her face and gently traced her cheeks. “Oh my gosh! Is this me”? She softly breathed, not taking her eyes from the mirror. I stood beside her, my left hand resting on her shoulder softly.

“Oh yes Shosie, its all you. Every lovely sexy inch is you”, I whispered back. My heart was beating a mile a minute and lust was filling my heart and control was rapidly running away. My hand moved up and down her back as she looked in the mirror. “Did I do good Shosie? Did I succeed at what you wanted”? I softly said to her as my hand caressed her back, with a will of it’s own. Shoshana was speechless; nodding at her reflection, and me not really believing it was she in the mirror. Her hand lowered to her left leg and felt the nylon-encased thigh. I was getting more excited by the moment and I sensed she was too.

Her hand rubbed her thigh and my hand joined her’s. I found myself whispering into her ear, as I leaned toward her head. “Look at those long legs. Look at those sexy thighs and how lovely they look in nylons and sexy high heels. Those aren’t the legs of a girl. You make that skirt look so lovely, so feminine and sexy, the way it should be worn. Don’t you agree”, I breathed into her ear buried under her long soft hair. Shoshana seemed to have lost her voice. She nodded at the mirror in agreement. My hand went to her tight waist, where the skirt met the hem of the blouse. “Shosie, you are so curvy, so round. Do you see how your hips look so lush and full? I wish my waist was as tight as yours. Such an hourglass figure. So very feminine aren’t you? No little girl could make that skirt look so good. No little teenage could either”, I continued and I could feel my heart pounding and my own nipples pushing out against my bra. Little beads of sweat were forming on her upper lip and I felt more then moist myself. I was feeling feverish, full of lust and so totally out of control. If my mother was there, she would have slapped me across the face and gotten it over with, but she was not and my lust drenched mind and reduced inhibitions were running amuck.

My hand reached up her back and felt the back band of the new bra. Looking at her chest in the mirror, her own nipples were clearly outlined against the white blouse. Shoshanna’s eyes were locked on them. I softly caressed her middle back and whispered into her ear, “Oh my, are you getting excited? I am. (I softly giggled and she sucked in her breath). Do you know how many women would kill for your bust? How many would sell their souls to look like you do in that blouse? So full and round, as if you have two large ripe melons on your chest, perfectly in proportion. (I whispered and I could feel her shudder at my forbidden words). Not many grown women could fill out that blouse as well as you do Shosie”, I softly told her. Lifting my face, we looked together into the mirror and you could almost see the steam in the air. Was the mirror getting fogged or was that merely my overheated libido? Either way, I had pasted the point of reason and clear thinking. Via the reflections of the mirror, our eyes were locked on each other, both of our breathing rapid and more then alittle ragged. I looked at her and found my voice again.

“You are so lovely Shoshana. Those plump luscious lips and long silky hair. Your eyes are so sweet, but you know that, don’t you”? I whispered yet again. And then I totally fell off the cliff and it was a long way down. My arm was across her shoulders, hugging her slightly to me. Not a sexual hug, if you can believe me, but a hug of closeness. Okie dokie, I’m not sure I believe that either, but sometimes a girl can’t help herself.

“You know Shoshana, you are so sexy and feminine and lovely”, I whispered like the snake must have whispered to Eve in the garden so long ago. “How old are you”? I said.

Her eyes cleared, somewhat, “I’m 14” she replied in a soft voice. And I continued falling from the cliff.

“14”? I whispered into her luxuriant mane of hair. “How can you be 14? Just look at those legs. Are those the legs of a 14yr girl? I don’t think so”, I breathed. “I just love how you look in those heels. A girl can’t wear heels like you are, can she”? I asked her, the spicy questions dripping from me. Shoshana looked at herself and began to look confused. As she considered my question and comments, she shook her head. And still I pushed on, losing what little control of events and the magic I had left. “You don’t look like your 14. A 14yr old is a little girl. Like your cousins, Tamar and Leah, they are little kids. They have the bodies of children, don’t they? But you certainly don’t. Look at how sexy that skirt looks with your hips and nice round ass. That’s not a little girls butt, no, it’s a grown woman’s sexy ass, isn’t it”? My hot words were said aloud to her. Her eyes were becoming glazed under my words and magic and budding sexual excitement. Her upper lip was crowned with beads of moisture. “Those big boobs don’t belong to a 14yr old? How can they? They are so big and round. Are you sure you are 14 Shoshana”? I asked with an evil grin that even took me by surprise. She looked at me and at herself in the mirror. Her hands rose to just under her breasts and then to my surprise, she cupped them. She moaned softly and smiled. “Dina, I’m not sure that I’m 14”, she said to me in a soft yet seductive voice. And then I was a goner.

“I don’t think so either Shoshana. I think you are a grown up”, I whispered to her.

“A grown up”, she whispered back, as she looked into the mirror and her own reflection.

I could feel the magic running away from me and out of my control and for the first time ever, I didn’t make any effort to stop it or myself. I was too caught up in my own lust and desires.

“Yes, you are a grown up. Not 14 at all. You are so beautiful, so sexy and lovely. You definitely are a woman”, I smiled.

“A woman”, she echoed back to me, her eyes glazed over and voice sounding slightly deeper to me, more mature sounding.

“I think you are a beautiful woman. Not a 14yr old little girl. You are a grown woman. You aren’t 14. You must be my age. You are my age aren’t you”? I whispered and let my hand lightly touch her hair. “You are 28, yes, you are definitely 28”, I said lovingly, feeling the softness of her hair. “Not in Middle School or even High School. You are a grown woman of 28”, I repeated.

And with that, she looked into the mirror and smiled, “Yes Dina, your right, I am 28”.

With her saying those words, several things happened. I’m not totally sure what happened first or in what order. The first was, I could feel all the magic I had spinning around suddenly attach part of itself to Shoshana and part dispersed, I was not sure to where... The next thing was, we both heard the key enter the lock on the door and the tumbler turn the bolt. That noise hit me funny. Like I suddenly snapped out of a trance. Not like I was in a trace, but you know how you can drive on the highway? And you travel miles and miles and suddenly look at the road sign and think with surprise, “how did I get here”? That’s the feeling. Like I suddenly regained consciousness and awareness of where I was and what I was doing. I pulled my hand from Shoshana. I looked at her. It was her, but somehow, someway, she was definitely not the same. She was still in the same outfit. High heels, nylons, snug black mini and white blouse and sporting the Grand Canyon of cleavage still. But her appearance was clearly not the same. Her eyes were different and her skin was slightly more tan or olive in complexion. And that’s when it hit me like a 2 X 4 in the face. She really was 28. I had so totally fucked up and lost control. I had doubled her age!! She really wasn’t a teen anymore, she was in reality 28. Before I could say or do anything, the other kids, her former posse, came in, the door swinging behind them. They tossed empty cups into a wastebasket and I cringed to hear them say anything, but their expressions didn’t betray that anything was amiss. Before I could say anything, Shoshana put up her hand and made a motion to me, as if to say, “don’t say a word”.

“Hi Shosie”! Said Tamar (It was Tamar, she put the key down on the counter for me). “How did the photos go”? All three of them looked at Shoshana and didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

“Hi guys, they went great. I’ll show them to you when I get final copies made. Now, remember, you are my favorite cousins and all. But if you are all not out in front on time to be picked up, I’ll be very pissed and I won’t give you guys a ride ever again! See you and try to enjoy the summer”, she teased them effortlessly.

Leah looked at Shoshana and me and seemed about to ask something, when she shook her head and smile. “Ok, I’d hate to see you pissed. My mom said not to upset you and get you mad. Call us! Bye Dina, nice meeting you”, Leah said and they all grumbled something along those lines to me as they left. As they passed by me, I got sudden shots of the future for them. Some of those rare shots I mentioned. Still waiting for the lotto numbers though. The door closed, Shoshana grabbed the key and locked the door again, putting up the closed sign. She sat on the stool, looking up at me and smiling and not saying word one. She opened her purse, now a modern black leather one, withdrew her wallet and was flipping through it silently. She was spreading the contents (which looked like a Driver’s License, American Express and a VISA Card, at least $150 in cash and various business cards), across the counter top. Finally I spoke first.

“Um, you know what happened”? I asked her.

Slowly and deliberately, she turned to look at me. And to my surprise she was smiling. “Yes, I know exactly what happened. Basically, I fast-forwarded from 14 to 28 years old and skipped living all the steps in-between”, she answered in a clear voice. No rancor, no shock and no accusations. I was stunned and weakly replied to her.

“I think I can undo this and return things. I’m not 100% sure how, but I can try and find out”, I weakly mumbled.

Shoshana looked at me and had a huge grin on her face. “Why would I want you to do that”? She inquired with a crooked grin. A very appealing grin at that. I was finding I could really get used to seeing that grin.

“Well, because you are supposed to be 14, that’s why. I know that’s a weak answer, but it’s the best I can do. And wait!! How do you know and remember what happened”? It suddenly occurred to me to ask. She stood and went to the mirror and started brushing her hair as she spoke.

“Remember when we asked if you were a MOTT? A Member of The Tribe? You are not the only part of the Tribe who has certain, say I say, gifts? I have some also. (I know I must have turned pale). But my only gift is that sometimes I can predict what card comes next in the deck. Daddy always teased me that when I was older, we’d hit Las Vegas and try to earn some dollars. Of course, that would be wrong”, she giggled and continued onwards. “I suspect my small gift allowed me to be somewhat aware of what was happening and retain my sense of identity and history. (I nodded; it made as much sense as anything else). Looking at my wallet, I can safely say, that life is good. (Shoshana giggled and smiled. She held out a Driver’s License and business card). I’m 28, have a Master’s Degree from UCLA in Biology. I have a great job doing research at Gemtek Pharmaceuticals. I really love what I do, in a field I enjoy. It was a path I was starting down when I was a young teen. All you did was let me skip the part in the middle. The boring parts, the parts I was not enjoying anyway”, she said as she gathered her things.

“Really, are you sure”? I grasped at straws, I was worried and concerned I had totally trashed her life beyond repair.

“Of course, definitely. Listen; at 14 I had the body of a 20 year old. I was more buxom then any of my teachers or friends and got teased endlessly. I felt bad for how overdeveloped I was and how the puberty fairy had skipped Tamar and Leah. Bye the way, can you help or do anything for them”? She inquired of me.

I pondered that for a moment. I had certainly had enough of bending the rules for one day and I considered the vision I had of the girls as they had left my store. “Honestly, I could, but I’m afraid to”. I said.

She nodded, as if to say, “I understand”. But I continued, “The truth is, I can tell you that by Thanksgiving Leah and Tamar will look different. The Puberty Fairy, as you put it, will visit them. They will be both about 2 inches taller and maybe 20 pounds heavier. They will both be on the Freshman Girl’s Soccer team and the added weight will round them out”, I offered her.

“That’s good to hear, I do love them so”, she smiled and looked happy at the news. “I suppose Debbie will be Homecoming Queen someday”? She asked.

“Well Duh!! Of course she will”, I teased. Just then, her cell phone went off. But instead of a clucking chicken, a more “normal” ring tone was heard. She answered it and had a short conversation with her father. It seems he was dating now and was very happy. His girlfriend was expecting Shoshana for dinner that night, to dine with them. Shoshana hung up and we sat silently for a moment. Lord, she was lovely, I thought as I drank in her long legs and admired her tight waist. She looked at me thoughtfully again.

“See, one more good thing, my Daddy is out and about and dating and happy. The lady he is seeing is someone I know and she is very nice. She’s not my mom, but she’s pretty and Dad likes her. I have you to thank for that”, she said.

“They sound wonderful. I’m glad they are happy. And you too”, I wanly smiled.

Shoshana smiled at me and then giggled and clapped her hands together. “Listen, regarding dinner tonight. How would you like to be my guest? Be my date?” she asked with expressive green eyes. I blushed and answered her.

“Are you sure? I mean, well, yes, I’d love to. Are you sure you want to bring me home to meet your dad? Is it ok with them for you to bring a guest”? I asked.

“Of course it’s ok. They would be delighted if I bring someone. Especially someone as lovely as you are. And an independent businesswoman and MOTT besides”, she smiled warmly. “It’s going to be such fun”, she bubbled over.

“Ok, I surrender to your superior skills of negotiation”, I said in mock resignation.

Shoshana jumped up and squealed. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to her. With out thinking my arms went around her and her arms went around my back, pulling us close to each other. Being the same height and both buxom, there were some things between us. Ok, actually 4 of them. You know what? It felt good to me. Still hugging, our faces turned to each other. We were looking eye to eye, from inches away. Shoshanna’s hand went behind my head and she pulled me to her lips. My eyes closed and our lips met. I found heaven in a small place. After feeling the earth move and the sky tumbling down, I opened my eyes and drew back my face. Her eyes were before mine, liquid, laughing and lovely. I purred with contentment and asked her, “Are you always this assertive”? I teased her, remembering an earlier conversation, a mere 14 years before. Her reply was to softly pull my face to hers and kiss me again.

 

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