I met a young woman on a chat. She was 20 and bi and we chatted for hours. At 5ft 3, she was petite with brown hair, although that was her description... as I never saw a picture of her. She had worked in a café prior to the Coronavirus lockdown, but wasn’t sure if she would go back. I had asked what she wanted to do, but she wasn’t sure. She was single, as her last boyfriend had messed her around. I would never and will never understand why.She lived 200 miles away from me, near the coast. Close. She had told me many times how riding horses makes her horny as fuck, because of the pommel on her saddle bashing her clit all morning. I remember that day vividly, because it sticks in my mind the various smells I encountered that day. There was the smell of horse shit, from her boots. The smell of sweat from her body and hair. Smell of her sweaty cunt. And then finally the smell of sex. All mixed together it was quite a concoction. Happy days. After we finished the phone rang and there was. "It was something that I could do. Mum had started me when I was five and I danced well, although at that time I couldn't say that I was keen on ballet. As time went by I progressed. I was eleven when I first saw you. I had known Becky for years but her brother was a mysterious stranger. Then I met you and fell head over heels, even though I couldn't talk to you. You were so clever and everyone said you would go to University and become a Doctor. I was a complete dunce; the only thing I could. It was then I told myself he doesn’t suspect that Mark’s my son and that brought a sense of relief to me. After a little more talk about Mark’s work Phil turned the conservation towards me and what a natural I seemed to be at modeling. He went on to tell me that the real reason he asked me to come in was to ask me if I would be willing to model for the school’s art department. They are always looking for models that would be willing to pose for the art department as well as the photography.
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