Mrs Wilson Calls
It had been a hard day. Working in an office can never be regarded as physically strenuous but deadlines often strain your mental reserves. However, neither of these was responsible today. Today it was Clare, my new secretary. Nineteen years old and with a dress sense that not so much attracts attention but grabs you by the lapels and slaps you round the face a few times. A 44DD chest and 36” hips with long chestnut hair hanging to her slim waist. Legs that started at the floor and...