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Bobbi's Story 6 One, Two, Three, Kick!
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
penis, and her fingers rolled the head of it between them. "I think
I told you," Helen said softly, "that I'm a Lesbian, but your body
fascinated me when we were in the cell together, and it fascinated me
even more now. I've made love with my other girls. Could I make
love to you now?" I looked up into her eyes. I had never made love
with a woman before, but this felt somehow right. "Will you take
me the way you would any other woman?," I asked. With a big smile
on her face, she replied, "That's the only way I want you."
Helen leaned over to put her face very near to my little penis.
Her tongue flicked out to touch it, and my entire body stiffened with
sexual excitement. She did not take it into her mouth in the manner
of a blow-job, but licked it the way a woman would lick at another
woman's clitoris when performing cunnilingus. It felt very good.
After a few moments of this, she sat up again, and said, "Give me a
minute to get comfortable, so we can really enjoy ourselves."
Helen stood, and pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress.
Under it, she was clad in a black lace bra and panties set. I watched
as she unhooked and removed her stockings, and took off her garter-
belt. The real treat for me came when she stripped away her bra,
and I could again see those marvelous breasts of her's that I had
delighted so much in looking at while we were in the jail. I kept
trying to picture what it was going to be like to be able to proudly
display a pair of breasts like them on my own chest someday soon. I
wanted that so very much. Then she slipped out of her panties, and
was as nude as I already was, giving me a view of the thatch of fine,
blonde pubic hair at the junction of her legs. Helen was a strikingly
beautiful woman.
Helen lay on the bed next to me, and took me into her arms.
The whole length of her body pressed against mine, and I could feel
her pubic hair tickling the tip of my little penis. I had never been
attracted to women, but this was different. On this bed, I was not a
man with a woman in his arms, but felt more like a girl in the arms
of a woman who desired her sexually. Helen did all that she could
to encourage this feeling. She made sure that I was generally on my
back in the submissive role to her gentle sexual aggressions the whole
time we spent in bed together. She took me as she said she would.
She took me in the manner that she had taken, or been taken by any
other woman she had ever been to bed with.
Helen turned her body around to once again be licking at what
she called my distended clitoris, and I was presented with her own
pussy very close to my face. Growing bold, I touched it, spreading
the outer lips with my fingers to get a good look at that part of the
female anatomy that I would soon have, and wanted to have as much,
if not more than her breasts. Helen's reaction was to spread her legs
to give me more access, and say, "Go ahead. Kiss my pussy!" I did,
and the taste was something wonderful. Helen began moaning softly,
and kept on licking me. I was going to be all the woman I could be in
this life, but there was still something inherently right in doing this
with another woman. I knew that this would not be the last time I
did it. Helen began to shudder all over, and I knew that she was in
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the throes of orgasm. I licked her pussy all the way through it.
Helen turned back around to face me again, and we kissed. I
could tell that she enjoyed the taste of her own love juices on my
face. "I want to bump pussies with you now," she said excitedly.
She urged me onto my back, and lifted one leg over to straddle me.
Her cunt pressed against my penis, and suddenly, I felt it enter her
vagina.
I had never had my penis in a woman before. It felt as if it had
been wrapped in soft, warm, wet velvet. Helen moved her body up
and down on it. and thousands of sexual thrills shot through me. I
had no desire to mount her as a man would do, but with her on top,
it was ecstasy. The muscles of her vagina gripped me tightly, and
her up and down movements got faster. The pressure in my testicles
reached the boiling point, and I shot my load of cum deep inside of
her loins!
Helen collapsed on top of me when I had finished cumming, and
we lay that way for a moment. Then she slid off me. She took me in
her arms, and we kissed again. We just lay there cuddling close to
each other for a long time.
"How does it feel to have your first Lesbian experience?," Helen
said softly after a little while. I was stilled cradled in her arms, so
I stretched a little bit to cuddle closer. "It was very good," I said.
"I've never done that with a woman before." Helen kissed me on the
forehead, saying, "There are many delights to be found in another
woman's arms. Let me teach you all of them. I find it very difficult
to think of you as anything but a woman, so that's the only way I
can treat you. I hope we can be together like this again from time
to time. All right?"
This was something completely new to me. I had never been able
to think of women as lovers in anything but a fantasy. Some of the
boys I had grown up with had talked about women and girls in a
sexual way, and I had gone along with it mostly just in an attempt
to try to fit in, but I never really understood what thrill could be
found in it. The few bits of female nudity that I had seen in my life
had never turned me on much either. Any interest in seeing them
on my part was more of a clinical nature than anything else. I was
curious to see the body parts that I should have had from birth, and
imagine what my body would be like when I got them at last. I
could never picture myself actually using the male parts of my body
to have intercourse with the female parts of any woman's body, and
yet I had just done that. It shook me a little.
"I should get going," I said at last. "I have a doctor's appointment
in a little while." Helen got up from the bed. I could still see a few
drops of my semen glistening on the upper inside of her thighs. I
would have rather it had been my thighs glistening with drops of
semen, but with the doctor's help, that would happen someday soon.
"Shall we get cleaned up before we dress?," she asked.
We both stepped into the shower together. Helen handed me a
bar of soap taking another for herself, and said, "It'll be more fun
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to wash each other." She started by soaping up my shoulders, but I
went directly to her breasts. "You like them, don't you?," she asked.
"Yes," I replied. "I want mine to be just like them when they grow
out. I'm due for a hormone shot today. I get one a week. The
doctor says they should start growing on their own soon, and I've
already started doing some exercises to help them along. I hope they
hurry up. I'm tired of falsies." Helen smiled, and started soaping my
breasts too. "You have a little bit already," she said. "They should
be nice when they get bigger. I can hardly wait to play with them."
In a strange way, I wanted her to do that too.
We spent some length of time cleaning each other's genitals. I
was just fascinated by the feel of Helen's pussy. I had never really
had the chance to touch one before. It was so very unlike all the
cocks I had handled. Helen seemed just as fascinated with my little
penis although she had felt many in her time too. "It's amazing how
you keep this hidden so well," she said. "Well, it's not very big,"
I answered, "but I wish it really wasn't there at all." Helen got a
playfully evil look in her eyes, and said, "Well, once that happens,
we'll just have to get you a strap-on dildo for when we're together."
"No," I replied. "You wear the strap-on, and do me. I'd like that
better!" There was a lot of laughter as we rinsed off.
We dressed together, helping each other with all the zippers,
hooks, and buttons in those inconvenient places that the designers
of women's clothing seem to put them. "What are you doing on
Saturday night?," Helen asked while we were dressing. "I've got no
real plans," I answered. "I might have a client for you if you're inter-
ested," she said. "He's in New York City on business, and he usually
takes one of my girls on a date whenever he's here. He once asked
about someone like you, so I'll suggest it to him if it's all right with
you. He's good for a hundred dollar, all night date, and a twenty-
five dollar tip if he likes you according to the girls. That gets you
one-hundred and fifteen after my agent's fee. His only hang up is
that you not be there on Sunday morning. He'll take you to dinner,
and back to his hotel, but you leave when he falls asleep. He's got
a religious thing about Sundays. How about it?" It sounded good
to me, so I agreed. "But I thought you said I had to fill out some
sort of a job application first?," I asked. "You just did that," Helen
answered.
"I really have to get going," I said. "I still have some errands to
run before I go home, so I had better get to it." Helen nodded, and
said, "Call the office number on my card each day between ten and
noon for any assignments that might come up. You won't get me
unless you have to talk to me for some reason, but my receptionist
will give you all you need to know. I'll send a limousine to pick you
up at home, and take you where you have to go. All right?" Helen
said she had some work to do in the room, so we kissed gently, and
I left alone. I was now a call-girl.
I turned a few more heads in the lobby as I left the hotel. I
liked doing that, so I decided to walk to the doctor's office to get my
hormone shot. It really was not that far away, and except for the
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early Autumn chill in the air, it was a nice day. My appointment
with the doctor should have been yesterday evening, but I changed
it so I would not have to make two trips into Manhattan. I got all
the lustful looks I could have wanted on the way there, and a few
whistles when I walked by a construction site. Most women will
object to that, and rightly so, but it can be a bit of a boost for your
ego sometimes.
The visit to the doctor was very businesslike. It was really more
of a visit to his nurse than anything else. She asked me a number
of questions to start with that were designed to determine what sort
of reactions I was having to the hormones. She was very pleasant
and friendly about it, and tried to make things as easy for me as
possible. She also had to draw a little blood on this visit for my
monthly blood test. The hormones can affect blood sugar levels,
and kidney and liver function, so these have to be monitored closely.
After all that was done, she gave me the hormone shot. The whole
procedure with her took about a half hour each time I was there. I
did not mind. I was getting a half hour closer to being all the woman
I could be in this life each time.
The last ten minutes or so of the visit was spent with Dr. Ben-
jamin himself. Most of the time we just talked, but sometimes he
examined me. "You're doing well so far, Bobbi," he would say, and
try to explain some of the things that the hormones were doing to
me. This time he told me that he had set up my appointment with
the psychologist for next week. I only had to call to confirm the day
and time. This was very important because without the psychologist
there can be no surgery. I would have to live for at least a year as a
woman prior to the start of surgery, and this Real Life Test (RLT)
would have to be monitored by the psychologist to validate it, and
be sure I was adjusting properly. I said I would be sure to call.
I left the doctor's office, and went back to the street. I would have
to take a cab to the photo studio to pick up my model's portfolio, so
I started looking up and down the street to see if one was coming.
A big deep voice from behind me said, "Lost?" I turned, and looked
into the broad, Irish face of the same policemen that I had met in
the Central Park Zoo after a doctor's visit a couple of weeks ago.
"Hi!," I said. "No. Not lost. Just looking for a cab, uhh..."
"Brian," he said. "The name's Brian, and your's is Bobbi, right?"
I nodded. "Look," he said, "I could get in trouble for doing this if
anyone finds out, or you take it wrong, but I tried to call you, and
someone said you moved, and wouldn't give me the new number. I'd
like to see you sometime when I'm off-duty. Now, if my sergeant
finds out that I asked you for a date like this, I'm in big trouble, but
I didn't know if I'd see you again, so I thought I'd take the chance.
What do you think?"
He was just so cute with his babbling, little boy way of talking,
and rather attractive too. I found it very difficult to say "no" to him.
I stepped back onto the sidewalk, and said with a wink, "If it's the
business of the police to assist the public, then part of that is hearing
the problems that the public has. As a member of the public, I'd
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like to complain about the length of time it takes to get a cab here,
but knowing that there are better places to discuss this than on the
street, I'd like you to phone me at home to set up a meeting. Does
that constitute enough police business to justify our talking now?"
Brian smiled broadly, and wrote down my new telephone number
in his notebook. I do not know why I gave it to him, but there was
just something about him that I liked. I had never dated a cop, but
it should not be too much of a difference from anyone else. "Yes,
Miss," Brian answered. "It does. Maybe I should call you tonight to
discuss the meeting. Would that be okay with you?" "I'll be home
anytime after seven o'clock," I said. "I'll be expecting to hear from
you, Officer Brian. Don't let me down."
Brian promised that he would not. I did want to date him, but
I made up my mind that there would be no sex. I could not, of
course, take the chance of what might happen when he discovered
my little penis, but I also wanted to be a lady this time. Maybe I
was maturing a bit, but there were more things that I wanted from
life than a quick thrill.
A cab soon whisked me away from Brian, and toward the photo
studio. I felt good about seeing him again. He knew nothing of who
I was, and what I was doing. To him, I was just a pretty girl that he
very much wanted to date. He knew nothing at all about me other
than that he had seen me twice around Central Park, and that I had
just moved into a new place to live. I liked that. Some of the things
that were going on in my life leaned heavily toward the tawdry side.
It might be pleasant to have something that was fresh and clean. I
did not know how long anything with Brian might last, but I was
willing to give it a try.
Tom was waiting for me in his office when I arrived, and gave me
a big greeting. He was, however, on the telephone as usual. I took
my seat in front of his desk, and caught him sneaking looks at my
legs all the way through his conversation. I guessed that these looks
were just more conditioned reactions to the sight before him than
any real lust for me on his part. If he had asked, I probably would
have hopped into bed with him, but that was not the sort of thing
he indulged in. I was just an appealing body to look at. That was
all right with me too.
Tom was still talking when the door opened behind me. I turned
to see Wendy coming in with a huge pile of photographs under one
arm, and a large, flat box covered in pink wrapping paper under the
other. "Oh, Hi," she said with just a touch of surprise in her voice.
"I didn't expect to see you in here yet." She put the photographs
on the small conference table as I returned her greeting, and slid the
box behind a chair as if to hide it. Just then, Tom got off the phone.
"Hello, Bobbi!," he said. "Am I glad you finally came in. We've
got lots to talk about, but let's get to your portfolio first. Then we
can talk about some other things." He took me by the elbow, and
ushered me toward the table where Wendy was spreading out the
photographs.
156____Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________
They were all pictures of me. I stared at them, and from them
I stared back at myself in every pose and position that I had struck
during the photo session a week or so ago. I saw myself in color
and in black & white. I was in street clothes and in costume. I
posed dressed and undressed. There seemed to be hundreds of them.
"Okay, Bobbi," Tom said. "I promised you a model's portfolio as
part of our deal. There are two-hundred poses there for you to choose
from. You get forty 11X14's from that lot. Pick one as a portrait,
and we'll give you twenty 8X10's of it for publicity. Wendy and I will
help, but I have to make another call now, so you girls get started,
and have fun."
Tom went back to his desk, and Wendy and I stared at the sea
of photographs. "Let me make this a little easier," she said. "Ray
and I already went through them, and we've got some suggestions."
She took out a black & white head shot that was one of the first
Ray had done of me. "Use this for your portrait," she said. I had
never seen a really good picture of myself as a woman before, and
I looked at it for a long minute. "Okay," I said. "You know more
about this than I do, so I'll trust your judgement. I don't think I
could have picked a better one." Wendy leaned over, and whispered,
"Good, because that was my favorite, and Ray had the twenty copies
made up already."
The rest of the picking went quickly. Wendy's judgement was im-
peccable, so I just let her show me the ones she liked best. There was
a little bit of everything in the selection, from demure to porno. She
suggested that I only take one that showed my little penis sticking
out. "You probably don't want many like that anyway," she said,
"and you'll get a copy of the magazine layout of all of them anyway."
When we were done with the picking, she said, "I've got one
more surprise for you." Wendy got out the box that she had hidden
behind the chair. "Open it," she said. I tore the paper, and opened
the box. In it was a sort of flat, soft briefcase of black, shiny leather
with a zipper that ran around three sides. Inside were five sections,
big enough to hold the 11X14 photographs. "No model should be
without her portfolio case," she said. "It's a present from Ray and
I. I hope you like it." There was no question that I did. I hugged her
in thanks.
"All done already?," Tom said, rejoining us. "Good. Let me see
what you have, and then we'll talk." He ushered me back toward his
desk, and Wendy started putting away the other pictures. "See me
before you leave, okay?," she said. I said I would, and sat in front of
Tom's desk as she left us.
"Well," Tom said when we were alone, "I've got some very good
news for you. That photo session went very well for both of us. I've
had a chance to show some of the shots around, and there's a few
people interested in buying parts of it. Most of it is a few of the
stock, and you don't make much on those, but there's a distributor
interested in the transvestite striptease film you did as a short subject
for the porno houses in Europe. I get listed as the producer in the
credits, and you get billed as any name you want. All I have to do
_Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________157___
is put some titles on it, and all you have to do is sign the contract.
What do you think?"
This took me by surprise, but it turned out that Tom had already
sold the idea to the distributor before we shot the film. He never
treated me wrong, but he always held something back at the same
time. "It only gets shown in Europe?," I asked. "That's all," Tom
answered. "I'm not selling the commercial rights for America yet.
The market for that sort of thing here is very small." I thought it
over a bit, and it seemed all right to me. I did not want to see it
running here much, and Europe sounded like a better place. Besides,
I could use the few hundred dollars that I would get for it. I agreed,
and signed the contract.
"Good!," said Tom. "In that case, I have a cheque for you." He
handed me a cheque, and I looked at it. It was made out to me for
three-thousand dollars! I was stunned. "What name should we bill
you as in the movie?," Tom asked, but I was too dumbfounded to
speak. I could not believe the size of the cheque. "Is this all for
me?," I asked. "Yes it is," Tom answered. "Two-thousand is for the
film, eight-hundred is for the transvestite magazine layout, and the
rest is for the stills and the session. You won't get a cheque like that
all the time, but this was just a good deal. Now what name do you
want to be known as in the film, or should I just make something
up?"
I told him to make up a name, and the film was released with
me under the name of "Billie Beare" as the star. It did not really
matter. I deposited the cheque in my special bank account the next
day. That gave me five-thousand dollars tucked away toward my
surgery. It was nowhere near enough yet, but it was getting there.
"I have something to talk to you about now," I said when I re-
gained my composure. "I have a chance to sign with a modeling
agency, but I don't want to violate our contract. Is that possible?"
Tom asked the name of the agency, and got a big smile on his face
when I said it was Models-In-Minutes. He leaned back in his chair,
and said, "You tell Helen to call me, and we'll work it out. I'm sure
she can get you lots of special assignments." He seemed to have a
knowing tone in his voice when he said that, but I did not press the
issue. I gathered up my portfolio, and left his office. I had to see
Wendy as promised.
The studio was lit only with a few bulbs dangling from the ceiling.
It was a sharp contrast to the bright lights that had been on the last
time I was in here. The door to the dressing room was open, and
I could see that there was someone inside from all the way across
the studio. The clicking of my heels on the hardwood and tile floor
alerted the shadowy figure, and it appeared at the doorway of the
dressing room to see who was approaching. The figure was, of course,
Wendy.
"Hi!," I said entering the dressing room. "Hello yourself," Wendy
said giving me a warm hug in greeting. "You said to come see you
when I got finished with Tom," I said. "Yeah," she replied. "Nothing
special. I just thought we could talk a little if you have time. I like
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you as a friend, but I haven't been able to get hold of you since
the photo session. All I found out from your ex-roommate was that
you'd moved, but she wouldn't say where."
"Oh," I said hesitantly, "I was err... away for a couple of days,
and then I got the chance to move in with my mother in Queens.
I'm also signing up with a modeling agency. Lots has happened."
Wendy started sorting through my portfolio of pictures. "It looks
like we've got a lot to talk about," she said, and asked me what
modeling agency I had signed with. When I told her it was Models-
In-Minutes, she said, "Oh! So you're going to work with Helen too?
I do some assignments for her agency sometimes. I used to do more
before I got this job, but now I'm too busy here." It should not have
surprised me that both Wendy and Tom knew Helen, but I did not
expect them to know her so well. Before I could say anything else,
Wendy said with a giggle, "She handles lots of people. That's the
way she does business, on volume. Has she asked you about doing
her special assignments yet?"
It was beginning to seem like Helen's business was an open book
in the industry. I decided to see how far it went, so I said, "And what
if she has, and suppose I accepted?" Wendy stopped laughing. "Oh,"
she said, "I didn't mean to offend you. It was just some gossip. All
modeling agencies get stories like that about them. Not many are
true, but I know this one is because Helen asked me to do it. It's
okay with me if you do. I can keep a friend's secret... if she'll keep
mine. I agreed to do it too!" This was getting more interesting by
the minute. "Then you're one of Helen's two regular girls?," I asked.
"Only two girls?," Wendy answered. "I thought she would have had
more by now. No. I only did it twice. I don't do that regularly.
Just sometimes if I need some extra money for something. We'll talk
about it some other time. Not here."
A heavy step at the door made us both turn to see who it was.
"Can anyone join this party?," said Ray coming into the dressing
room. "Ray," said Wendy, "Bobbi lives out in Queens now too. Can
we give her a ride home, so we can talk?" Ray lit a cigarette, and
said with a grin, "You mean I have to listen to you chicks twittering
all the way home? Okay. I guess I can put up with it, but let's go.
It's quitting time, and I want my dinner!" Wendy shook her head.
"He's such a romantic," she said.
Ray's car was in the garage across the street, so it only took
a few moments to get there. Wendy and I took the back seat. It
would be easier to talk that way, and she wanted to help me organize
my portfolio on the way. We made a lot of small talk as we rode,
and somehow seemed to be avoiding any mention of Helen and her
agency. It turned out, however, that Helen's sideline business was
not very well known in the industry. It was sheer coincidence that
Wendy knew anything at all about it, and Tom only knew because he
occasionally used the service to entertain clients. Most others only
viewed the story as another bit of the vast sea of meaningless gossip
that floated around the modeling industry. My secret, it seemed,
would be safe.
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It happened that Ray and Wendy lived only a couple of miles
from Edith, and dropping me off there was really on their way. Ray
seemed surprised that I could live in such a luxurious building, and
Wendy liked the way that Thomas, the doorman, held the car doors
for us as we got out, and she moved to the front seat with Ray. I
would have liked to have asked them to come up for a visit, but
Ray was anxious to get home for his dinner, and I had not talked to
Edith about bringing people home yet. We parted company on the
sidewalk, and I went up to the apartment.
Edith was already at home when I got there, and asked me how
my day had gone. I told her about signing up with a modeling
agency, and she thought that was just wonderful. "I knew you'd get
a job like that," she said, "but that won't keep you going all the
time. You should get a regular job too until you get established as a
model. Have you ever thought of calling that fellow Paul who used
to be with the store's personnel department? You told me he liked
you, and I know where he's working now. I asked a friend of his
today. Maybe he'll have some ideas."
Edith was being motherly again. She was gently nudging me
toward doing what I knew I ought to do anyway. I had not thought
of calling Paul, but it was not a bad idea at all. He might just have
an idea or two that would help. I said I would call him on Monday.
"What's that?," Edith asked after dinner. She was pointing to
my portfolio case, so I told her what it was. I opened it, and we
spent the evening looking through the pictures and talking. The
only picture I held back was the nude of me with my little penis
sticking out. I was not quite ready to show that to her yet. "You're
very beautiful in these," she said. "You make a good model. You
look like you belong on the stage." I looked at the pictures once
again too. "All the world's a stage," I said. "I'm only just a minor
bit player." "Maybe," Edith replied.
12 Help Wanted
Edith had given me a week of freedom before she would insist on
me finding a real job, and that time was up. There would be some
modeling assignments, and a few tricks as one of Helen's call-girls,
but none of that would provide a steady income yet. The job of
modeling coats was for the coat company's spring line, and it would
be four to six weeks more before we actually started any shooting.
I could have just barely existed on the money I could get out of
these part-time jobs, including paying rent to Edith, but only if I
also turned at least four tricks a week down at "The Gilded Grape."
That would not, however, leave any money at all for such things as
clothing, hormone shots, and saving for my operation. A real job
was a real necessity.
My first problem was trying to decide on what kind of job I
wanted. It had to be regular "nine-to-five" hours, or close to it, with
weekends off, so that I could do all the things in my life like dance
160____Bobbi's_Story___________________________________________________________
classes, doctor's appointments, and Friday/Saturday night assign-
ments from Helen. It had to be flexible enough to allow me to take
a day or two off once in a while for modeling assignments. It could
not involve any real degree of manual labor because of the demands
of photographic modeling to keep my hands and body free of marks
from accident or strain. Lastly, it should be in Manhattan, so that I
would be reasonably close to all the things I had to do. There were
not many jobs that fit into those criteria, but I to have a place to
start from.
The next part of this was to decide on what jobs I was qualified
for. The jobs I had in the past were not much good as training.
Before being a stock-boy at the department store, I had swept floors
in an dress factory, and worked as a general clerk in the office of
a glass shop in my home neighborhood. I could not use those as
references either. Few employers will hire a girl, no matter how
qualified she is, if all of her references say she is a boy. They usually
do not take it as a joke either. I would have to start off as a girl
trying to get her very first job. The only qualification I had was a
typing and filing class I had taken in high school that taught me to
type twenty words a minute, and how to alphabetize file cards. It
was a very slim portfolio, but it was all I had to go on.
It seemed like there were only two options open to me. I could
be a salesgirl in a store of some kind. That would give me all I
needed, except that the hours would not be quite what I wanted,
but jobs like that were relatively easy to get. I could also work in
an office as a receptionist or file clerk with some light typing on the
side. The problem there would be in taking time off for modeling
assignments if I needed to, but the pay would be better than working
in a store. In any case, those two areas of endeavor looked like my
best possibilities.
"My, but you're so deep in thought this morning," came Edith's
voice to jar me out of my reverie. "Care to share what you're thinking
about?" I had been sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee, and
staring out the window at the shreds of sunrise over Long Island
Sound that I could see in the distance. It was the morning of the
Monday after my date with Dan, and it had been my turn to make
breakfast. Sarah was just coming in to have her breakfast too. I was
still in my robe and slippers, but Edith was already dressed to go to
work.
"Oh, nothing much," I replied. "I was just thinking about what
sort of job I should get. I think I'll go into The City, and start looking
today." Edith poured some coffee, and sat down at the table with
me. "That's a good thought," she said. "If you want some advice,
I'd say to buy The Times, and see what's in there before you go
running all over the place. I still also say that you should try calling
Paul, the personnel manager that used to be with the department
store, and see what he has to say. You told me he liked you, so he
might be willing to help."
Edith was always there with the motherly advice whether I
wanted it or not, but I did very much appreciate it most of the
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