Paula is a small town girl from upstate New York. Like so many she moved to the city soon after high school with a girlfriend to find employment and "just maybe" be discovered for acting on Broadway. She was the perfect daughter in a perfect middle class family. She had earned all "A's" and been the star in all her high school plays. Now, she is beautiful, shy, very courteous, is talented, is an excellent secretary, is struggling to survive and is depressed.
Three times "wonderful," insightful men identified her naiveté and lack of defenses against the big cruel usury city. All three times she fell for their success, their suave manners, their polished lines and their sex appeal. The first took her virginity and never called again. The second drank too much and was abusive until he went back to a home and a wife that he claimed not to have. The third caught her on the rebound, fucked her, used her, shared her with a friend, degraded her and left her with an empty bank account.
Her three men had left her wiser and had taught her some things about herself that cannot be denied. She loves sex, cums easily, cums wetly and cums often. Her buzzing sex toy collection and the moans of pleasure from her room drove her roommate away months ago. Mom and Dad sent her a little money to get her through a couple more months. Then it would be time to give up on the "Big Apple" and her dreams of experiencing its night life, and, at least once, touching its wealth and luxury.
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Paula's full-length "mink" coat was a gift from her second beau, early in their relationship. It is beautiful, a real eye-catcher with its shinny black, long fur, flowing hood, perfect styling and designer label. Only problem, she found out, it is a wonderful faux fur with a fake label. No one can tell. Real would have been nice. She was glad knowing no animals died to make it for her.
One dark January evening the snow was still falling steadily. She had cabin fever and was horny. She could look out over the busy downtown street from the small empty balcony of her twelfth-floor apartment. She stood nude inside the sliding door. She was still perfectly made up from her workday. She needed air and wanted to go out. She had no date. A naughty thought flashed through her.
Paula turned her "mink" inside out. She put it on so the fur was against her white skin and her shoulder length blond hair flowed over the shiny silk lining. She slipped on the knee high white boots she had worn that day and stepped out onto the patio.
Across the street, two buildings down but on the fourteenth floor, in his luxury townhouse, Dirk was looking out across his empty balcony too. He seldom went out anymore. No one loved the ladies more than he, but last year's "incident" was still on the minds of most people. On an on, the tabloids ran pictures and quotes from women who claimed to have dated him. Most he did not know. Disguises helped. The movement across the street caught his eye.
The white boots and long lovely legs were kicking the snow off the small empty slab. There was enough light from inside the woman's apartment and from others nearby to afford him a rather nice view of the flowing blond hair and the graceful moves. He was trying to imagine her features when she helped.
With the snow mostly gone, Paula grasped the top rail of the rot iron fence that protected her from falling. She arched her back, put her right leg on top of the railing and leaned forward putting her head on her knee. It felt good stretching from being desk bound all day. So good, she leaned back.
Dirk could hardly believe the alabaster, natural "Cs" that proudly thrust from her coat. Her skin glowed and he saw more when she stood upright and repeatedly kicked her legs high over her head. She turned around, swung her other leg up onto the railing and stretched down to it. Her pussy was shaved clean and glowed just like the rest of her.
He imagined he could see the slit. As she twisted, she showed a shapely ass cheek and a perfect thigh. As if to tease him more, she turned and showed that she had a matching cheek and thigh on the other side.
This "half-a-block away," unknown Goddess meant nothing to Dirk. In fact, he disliked her some because she looked like his year-long live-in lover - the one who secretly gathered his memories and sold them cheaply to the yellow-rag of a newspaper that it seemed everyone in the world read. It still puzzled him why she did it. He gave her more every month than she made from the sale of his privacy. Probably, she wanted her fifteen minutes of fame and was promised some break in show business.
He stepped outside, reached over and picked up the long propane lighter that he sometime used on his out-door grill when its sparker didn't work. When the flame leaped from the tip, it seemed to light up his entire patio. He immediately extinguished the flame and just stood looking at the exposed beauty.
Paula had done this to be naughty and show off, but actually knowing that someone was watching shocked her. She grasped her coat around her, raced inside and closed the blinds.
The next morning, Dirk, in his sunglasses, sweats and hoody, paused to talk with his childhood friend and now doorman, "Scott, do a favor for me."
"Anything, Mr. Toller, you know that. This job saved my family and me. With my bad back, I don't have many employment options but the pay here is great thanks to you."
"Knock off the "Mr." stuff, we drank our first beers together. See the apartment high rise, not straight across the street, but the cream colored one to the left?"
"Sure."
"Get your P.I. friend to find out who lives in the twelfth floor apartment, second from the corner, down the side street. Just get the usual stuff. I'm gun shy now."
"You have a right to be. I'm sorry that you are still having to go through all that fabricated bull shit."
"Me too, but I enjoy this city too much to move." Dirk put ten hundred dollar bills into Scott's hand. "This should get him started. Don't let him rip me off too much on the hours he claims."
"I'll make sure he does a good job for you."
