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Better Late – 15

She lay back to catch her breath and giggled aloud at the wonderful afterglow that left her whole body tingling. She tried to imagine what it would be like if David Goodman was really touching her. What would his touch be like, she wondered. Where would he touch her, she wondered. Shaynah Levy turned off the water jets and rose from the tub to towel herself dry. While she dried her smooth alabaster skin, she watched the mirror. Shaynah was keenly aware that she had never before in her 44 years felt this way. She wondered if she had ever felt anything, apart from adoration of her children. She realised that she was becoming a new woman. Did she want a new experience the black prostitute had asked. Shaynah Levy’s decision was made. She did want an new experience, and would contact David Goodman and make an appointment to visit his property with an eye toward making the purchase.

Chapter Two

It crossed Shaynah’s mind that there was a force working to prevent her moves toward a sectarian life when she woke to a lashing rainstorm. Even in her state-of-the-art SUV, a four-hour drive north into the midst of Great-Lakes country would not be fun in this weather. She defied the idea of calling David Goodman to postpone her visit. She told herself that she was just making excuses and leaving herself an escape route from her intended adventure. With redoubled determination, Shaynah Levy strode to her en suite bathroom and shed her night gown in front of the large mirrored wall. She had always removed her night-clothes carefully, gathering the fullness of the ecru linen fabric in her hands to lift the garment up and over her head. It was her habit then to hang it on a silver hook that was placed close to the shower enclosure for that purpose. It had been placed there so a demure wife could quickly cover herself while stepping out of the shower stall and avoid revealing her nakedness to her husband and children.

The morning Shaynah was to go to visit the remote island home that she coveted was the morning her rebellion and life-altering decisions went into high gear. On this morning she did not gather the heavy linen to lift it off over her head. Instead, she unfastened several more snaps on the closure that ran from her long, slender throat to between her bulging breasts. Impulsively she pulled the neck opening wide and down over her shoulders and admired herself from a variety of angles, turning this way and that, imagining what it would be like to go to a function in an off-the-shoulder gown with some of her substantial cleavage exposed. She looked at her head, the small fuzz of hair on her shaved head ready for another removal. She had already decided to wear her most fashionable wig – streaked blonde swept up into a swirl at the top. She would shave her scalp clean again, so the wig would be more comfortable.

Shaynah Levy pulled the neckline of her night gown down under her breasts and admired her reflection. Her breasts bobbed and quivered as she stepped one way and another, inspecting herself. She concluded that she had nothing to be ashamed of in the way of natural attributes, and wondered that she had lived in this world for forty-four years and never once experienced any natural stimulation. A peal of thunder snapped Shaynah’s mind back to her immediate reality. Shaynah dropped her night gown to the tiled floor and stepped out of it. She looked at herself in the mirror, observed the firmness of her mature body and the creamy pale flesh and looked down at the coarse night gown, crumpled on the floor.

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