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There is the open book her inquisitive look the way with one stockinged leg hanging over the arm of the chair the centre parted wavy dark hair and he sitting across from her at the writing desk writing to his mother saying how good he was being all alone in Paris reading the books she’d sent paying his way paying the rent eating out working in getting the studying done leaving the girls alone no late nights no ***** no cigarettes no sadness or regrets and looking up from the letter paper seeing her opposite with his book open on her lap her black laddered stockings the way she sits invitingly him smiling dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s periods at the end whispering to the dame be there soon kisses on the bottom of the letter for mother and the dame’s (bottom) maybe later letting the ink dry imaging what beneath the dame’s dress and underclothes may wait and his deep sigh.
0
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
SHE WITH HIS BOOK OPEN.
There is the open book her inquisitive look the way with one stockinged leg hanging over the arm of the chair the centre parted wavy dark hair and he sitting across from her at the writing desk writing to his mother saying how good he was being all alone in Paris reading the books she’d sent paying his way paying the rent eating out working in getting the studying done leaving the girls alone no late nights no ***** no cigarettes no sadness or regrets and looking up from the letter paper seeing her opposite with his book open on her lap her black laddered stockings the way she sits invitingly him smiling dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s periods at the end whispering to the dame be there soon kisses on the bottom of the letter for mother and the dame’s (bottom) maybe later letting the ink dry imaging what beneath the dame’s dress and underclothes may wait and his deep sigh.
terry-collett
Written by
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
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