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I finally made it home, and as it was a hot day, I jumped in the shower to clean off, put on a bikini, and went out to the pool for a swim before the contracting company people arrived. The water was nice, and the breeze was a bit cold. Gliding through the cool water always made me feel so erotic. It wasn't long before my back gate opened, and in came 4 men. All were wearing thick black work boots, blue jeans, and various t-shirts. One approached the side of the pool, and said, "Hello."I swam over to the side, and climbed out. The breeze instantly found my nipples making them rock hard and clearly visible through the wet fabric. The men were all quite a bit bigger than me, and I felt a bit awkward as I felt their eyes all over my body. I looked around for my towel, and didn't see it outside. I must have forgotten it in the bathroom. I replied to the man, with, "Hello, I'm Sarah, pleased to meet you." I smiled and reached out my hand to shake his.While his hand was firmly grasped on. I glance towards the foyer with asilent plea to the practical joker who set the cosmos in motion that oneof the regulars might come in and provide me with an excuse to ignore her,but at twenty past seven on a chilly Tuesday evening in the middle ofApril there's more chance of Vivienne Westwood striding through the door,slapping a five-figure modelling contract on the bar, telling me she'sbooked me on the next Concorde to New York and tossing in a brand new BMWand a luxury apartment overlooking Central Park to clinch the deal.Looks like I'm on my own, then. Battling back the urge to launch a tiradeof four-letter words at her, I trawl the deepest reaches of my memory fora civil yet appropriately contemptuous riposte."If you say so," is what eventually surfaces."There's no need to pull a face like you've just swallowed a bluebottle,sweetheart. Your name only came up after I happened to mention that as Ihoped to do a spot of amateur sleuthing while I was here, it would be niceif I could.
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