David Lawton was just settling into a new neighborhood in a new city. After his divorce he decided to start his life over again. He realized that most people couldn't just pick up and leave one place, move and reestablish another life somewhere else. David didn't have that problem. His divorce reduced his bank account considerably but didn't break him. Maggie, his ex-wife, had a great job at one of the country's largest publishers and brought in as much or more as David. Maggie's connection with the publishing house was the reason they met.
Fifteen years earlier David had recently gotten his masters degree in English Lit. and had no desire to study any longer. He wanted to write. He had always wanted to write and had done so since grade school. In college he had regularly sent in manuscripts to different publishing houses; only to have most of them sent back with the advice to work harder. Determined to break into the literary world, David came across a story he had written in high school and started to revise it. He was sure this old idea was something that could be very successful and it was only a question of presentation and timing.
He spent a couple of weeks on the revisions and again sent it off. The next six weeks saw him on a daily vigil watching the mailbox. Each day when the postman stopped and put mail into his mailbox (or pass by without anything) he would count to ten and rush out to see if his treasure was there. With an inevitable sigh of disappointment he would go inside and meekly wait for the next day and possible delivery.
On this particular day the routine had already played out and he was pursuing a new routine of writing. He was just finishing another chapter when his doorbell rang. Not wanting to lose his chain of thought, he continued to type. The bell rang again and his typing became more furious; just a few more words... The bell rang for a third time and the visitor, obviously out of patients, kept their finger on the bell much longer than usual. The somewhat rude disturbance finally got David to stand up. With a sigh of frustration he went to the door.
David didn't have one of those peep holes in his door although he had been planning to put one in for the past few months. He opened the door and his irritation instantly dissolved. Standing before him was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She was tall. Her height was shocking but the beautiful red hair that framed her face was positively striking. Her blue eyes seemed to speak to him before her lips moved. When they did move, the voice they produced was warm and overflowed with promise and appeal.
"Mr. David Lawton: I presume?"
"Yes, I'm David Lawton," he managed to get out. Her eyes, nose and mouth kept him captivated.
"My name is Margret Daily. I am an associate editor by Barnes, Thisson and Noble. You've recently submitted a manuscript to our firm for approval...."
Her face and voice held him so captive that he really didn't hear what she was actually saying. Her look of confusion causes him to do an instant replay to hear why those sensuous lips moved.
"Yes; yes I did. Would you care to come inside?" His excitement suddenly doubled; this beautiful woman and the news she might give him.
"Thank you, I would love to." She passed him into the house and lightly brushed his chest. He instantly felt the electricity of her touch and smelled the sweet smell of the essence of perfume combined with her bodily oils. He had to keep from following her with his nose.
She sat down on his sofa and placed the briefcase that she was carrying next to his leg. He sat down next to her and visually took the rest of her in. She had a statuesque figure; very tall and slender. Her breasts, he estimated, were C-cup: not overly large but definitely large enough for his tastes. They were well hidden, as the rest of her upper body in a silk blouse and well cut jacket. She wore a matching skirt that stopped tastefully at mid-knee. Her long shapely legs were encased in sheer stockings and beautifully made pumps adorned her feet. His once-over of her left him with a small smile; he couldn't find anything wrong with this woman.
"I am here to make you an offer. My firm is interested in your work and would really like to see more. If we can come to an agreement we would like to represent you."
"What exactly are we talking about?"
"To put it very simply; money." She turned slightly toward him, keeping her knees tightly pressed together. He noticed that her stockings made her knees shiny as it reflected the light that came through his living room window. He thought of how soft her inner thighs would be. She breaks his chain of thought as she continued, "I've read one of your manuscript and am very impressed. My managing editor is concerned about you other work. We want to be sure that this story isn't just a fluke. We want to know that your talent can support and produce more works of the same level."
"I've been writing most of my life. If you want to see my work so far, all you have to do is ask. I must warn you Mrs. Daily; it will take a very long time to read all of my work."
