Our editor was a woman who I will simply call by the first name of Deborah. How to describe Deborah? I guess, first of all, you could call her a stereotypical career women. She had risen through the journalistic ranks through ruthless determination, talent and no lack of feminine charm.
I had by now undid Jacqueline's jeans and they dropped to the floor. There were followed by her panties, white, damp, and as I pulled them down, I could smell her sex, her scent of desire to consume me completely. And still...we hadn't kissed.
with this hardman, drinker by her side, as the mist rolls along, the tongue of the Clyde, she can still smell the beer on his breath, the whisky in his kiss.