2 - The Rich Woman
Sabrina stood before the grand wooden doors of the mansion. She pushed a light-golden lock of hair behind her ear and, rather self consciously, began to straighten out her skirt.
It was the same translucent little pink skirt Paul had worn while they stayed at his parents' house. Her expression softened - he certainly had looked cute in it when she'd bent him over his childhood bed. She firmed up again as she remembered to mind her thoughts. It was time to move on from what they'd had... and that was precisely why she'd come to that house.
It was also precisely the thing that had had her out of her element the previous night, crashing a fancy party in her hotel's function room. It was getting to the point where she would no longer be able to afford her accommodations, so it seemed at the time that the correct thing to do was to meet new people. Specifically, new people with money.
She rang the doorbell and resumed fidgeting with her skirt. With it hovering around her hips over her tight black leggings its cute drapery was sufficient to hide her bulging gifts from prying eyes, as long as they didn't linger. Prying eyes weren't likely to, as the sight of her overgrown breasts squeezed high on her chest in a low cut sports bra provided the perfect jiggly distraction. No bystanders could be spared the sight for her continual growth had her jean jacket buttons recently no longer meeting when she attempted to cover up. In the sunlight her pale cleavage was almost blinding.
Impatient, she sighed.
That previous night she'd gone down to the party in a sleek black cocktail dress, with her hair piled high. Any man alive would have been tempted by the sight of her, yet she hadn't lasted long enough to catch one, for after a few champagnes her composure had begun to fade. She was losing control of herself, which was something that dress had no hope of hiding. With her purse clutched to her lap she'd ran back to the elevators.
Despite her rush Sabrina had met, or rather was accosted by, a certain woman on her way out. That lovely and outgoing woman had been very eager to meet her the next day... and so there she was, standing at her front door.
After a few moments the door opened. "Hiii! Sabrina. So glad you came," the woman said. She stepped out of the way, "please do come in!"
"Thank you, Miss Swanson," Sabrina said.
"Please, sweetie, call me Monica."
Sabrina nodded and smiled placidly at the older woman. By the looks of her she must have been a total knockout when in her prime, but now Monica Swanson was nearing her fifties. Her glory days were behind her but as Sabrina had learned at the party the previous night, there still was no shortage of life in the woman. With her hazel and blonde highlighted hair, her perfect tan upon a yoga-tightened body and the mature blessings of her voluptuous features, she was without a doubt the consumate milf. She had her hair up in a bun and was dressed for comfort in yoga pants and a plain white t-shirt, and the sight of nipples upon large breasts poking unguarded into thin fabric tempted Sabrina's eye.
"My, just look at you," Monica said, eyeing Sabrina up and down. She reached out to trace a finger along the faint crease of muscle on her bare stomach. "Just as delicious as last night."
Sabrina smiled, "thank you Monica." She looked around herself, taking in the fabulous sights of the opulent mansion. "You have an amazing home!"
"It's something isn't it? Yeah. My Harvey did fine for himself. May he rest in peace. Can I get you anything? Tea? Wine? A ...cocktail?"
"Oh no, I'm fine."
"Suit yourself. Why don't you follow me."
She'd never known it to take so long to walk from someone's doorway to their living room, but then Sabrina had never been to a house quite like Monica's. It was astounding. Sabrina simply couldn't fathom how much money it all must have been worth, nor how a single person could have so much. Making friends with Monica Swanson would be a very smart move indeed.
When they finally reached the living room Monica plomped down into a couch. Sabrina did the same on the other side of the room, though more slowly as she traced her hands along her bum, keeping the pink frills of her skirt close for decency. Monica noted the action, her tongue tracing subtly along her lower lip.
"You were in such a hurry to leave last night, I could barely get a word in," she said. "So, tell me about yourself."
"Okay," Sabrina said. "Um... my name is Sabrina, I'm, ah.. twenty years old, and... "
"And...?"
Sabrina gave a perky little shrug, smiling sheepishly.
"Family?"
"Oh, my family, that's... not important."
"Where are you from?"
"I grew up in Arizona. I was born there."
"Oh, how nice," Monica said. "I lived there for a few years. It's hot. You know, they're starting to grow great wines out in Arizona... in fact, I have a couple bottles left of an excellent vintage... you just sit tight while I grab a bottle, okay sweetie?"
Sabrina noddled and watched Monica go. Amidst the faint sounds of shuffling in the kitchen she looked around, simply taking in her rich surroundings once more. She noticed over the fireplace a huge photoprint of Monica, looking like it had to be from a professional photoshoot decades in the past. It was an image fit for a gentleman's magazine, with her stretched out in the sand in a green bikini that barely covered anything at all. It was... quite an arresting sight, to say the least.
Foom
, went the sound of a bottle uncorked. Sabrina snapped out of her spell and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. In her prime Monica had been spectacular.
She returned to the living room, with two glasses of white wine in hand and the bottle tucked under her arm against her chest. She set it all down on the coffee table and sat, this time on the same couch as Sabrina, snuggling herself up close enough that the sides of their legs pressed together. She stretched her arm out and put it around Sabrina's shoulder. "Do you have any questions about me?"
"Oh sure," Sabrina said, reaching out to take her glass. "Tons. Tell me all about yourself."
Monica's nose wrinkled. "You... haven't heard of me?"
Sabrina shook her head, then began to sip her drink.
"I suppose it's a bit before your time, yeah. But I retired when I turned thirty, after I married Harvey, and up until then I was basically the most famous glamour model in the world."
