After all, I’m pretty strange to her.”“Yes, you are,” Amélie replied, “being black and all.” As she spoke Amélie drew her hand down Sand...ine’s flank under her shift. Sandrine chuckled. Her chuckle turned to a murmur of approval as Amélie’s hand passed across her bottom and lingered for a moment.“Yes, I am,” said Sandrine. “Definitely black.”Amélie kissed her and the two were silent as they prolonged the contact. There was no need for fancy gestures or energetic ones. They were experienced. She said sure and showed me my room and the bathroom. I asked if she would mind if I had a quick shower before I got changed. Again not a problem.When I came down in 20 mins it was clear she had knocked back another glass of red. The thought of a naked man in her house was obviously exciting to her.She had dressed in a red wrap dress and black heels. Her breasts looked massive and caused the fabric to bulge. I cooked, we ate, we drank we laughed. We sat on the sofa after dinner and chatted. Finally able to get my bearings and find my lost vocabulary, I said, ‘Thanks, to you too.’ And without a second glance I rushed back inside, leaving a stunned delivery girl at my door, wondering if she’d reached an insane asylum veiled by the façade of a normal household. She might have been right, I’ll agree. Running into my room, I took my wallet out, grabbing a bill or two to give her as a tip. When I got back to the door, she was fortunately still there, but was just about to turn and. He finally told me what I wanted to know."Well, I wasn't sure at first, Ron, but I think I know where you can find your girl," he admitted. He reached in the vest pocket of his shirt and pulled out a business card and handed it to me. I looked at it and my jaw dropped. It was a simple white card with dark green lettering and read:Penny LaneJournalistChelsea 6 4833"You had this all along?" I said, not a little pissed-off."Well, I thought I might have it. I had to hunt around for it, and found it.
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