Annie pulled her squad car into the parking lot outside Cahill Street Cinema and checked her watch. It was ten minutes after twelve. The midnight showing of whatever triple X rated film they were showing this weekend had just begun. Annie wondered why anyone would still go to a theater to view such filth when they could see the same thing in the privacy of their own home.
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I was driving cross-country to visit my parents. Halfway across the state I stopped in at a motel to spend the night. It was quite a nice motel, all mod cons, including a swimming pool. And, on a hot sultry night like the current one was shaping up to be, a swimming pool sounded rather appealing.
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My name is Jan, and this is my story of lust and shame.
I'm in my early twenties, 5 foot 7, slim but with a curvy, feminine figure, 34-24-35. My long flowing black hair contrasts my porcelain fair skin and my pretty, delicate features. I'm of Chinese-Thai descent. My family made their fortune in the timber trade, and thus my family is immensely well off. I live in a huge mock-Tudor style mansion set in a sprawling garden with a swimming pool, with maids tending to my every need.
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I am a burglar by trade. It's not a bad job. You pick your hours, working as little or as much as you like. No boss to tell you what to do and, as long as your careful, no hassles.
Mind you, I have more sense than to put down burglar on my tax returns. I'm a registered second-hand dealer and I do a lot of buying and selling over the internet. As long as I pay my taxes no-one bothers me.
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I am twenty-nine years old and have been married for eight years. After eight years of marriage, life has become incredibly stagnant. Wendy spends most of her time at her sister's house. She thinks if she is home while I am here I will spend all my time trying to fuck her, she's probably right. If she is not at her sister's house then she is working part time at the University helping foreign students with their visa applications and finding host families for foreign exchange students.
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"Damn it!" I yelled aloud, as the shifter linkage rattled uselessly, and the engine rpm's climbed to dangerous levels. Gritting my teeth and double-clutching, I slammed the shifter forward again, this time going into third gear. Yes! The Honda had jumped into the lead, however, and it was going to take every last bit of big-block horsepower to get it back.
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A shapely chestnut-haired girl frolicked through a meadow with careless ease, her long red hood trailing behind her as she carried a basket full of pastries on her way to her isolated grandmother's house. Unbeknownst to her, exploring the deepest, most wooded areas of the forest, there was also a young man. A young man who suddenly came upon a path, which he followed to the very same meadow filled with tiny purple flowers.
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Michael Broderick's attorney had showed him a copy of the suggested ruling that his wife's attorney had provided to the judge hearing their divorce case. "Good God, they can't be serious. I know that this is California, what with the community property rules, but I earned most of my money before I married that witch," He had moaned out when he saw the request for forty-four million dollars.
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I watched Anne get out of her Executive's car and stride purposefully towards the hotel entrance, she was every bit the beautiful, professional, confident woman her husband, James had told me she was. She was a bit older than I was used to, I tend to like them in their mid to late twenties but for a woman over 40 she did not look bad at all as she stepped into the revolving door of the hotel and approached the reception desk.
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Jane Pretty looked at the watch on her wrist. Girard Perregaux : a Swiss watch, tasteful and elegant. Like her suit: Chanel ready to wear; prêt à porter, chic and professional. Single, thirty-seven, a high-priced therapist, she spent her money on fine things. It gave her satisfaction to surround herself with them. She crossed her legs, the friction of her pantyhose like a faint shimmer of sound, her black suede pumps stretching her ankle attractively, but not erotically, the toes not too pointed. She leaned over and sipped from her bottle of water.
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