Turned Fortycopywrite  Chapter One 

An early morning mist was swept away by light droplets of water.  I jogged towards the leather heels clicking loud sound.  Approaching on the hard pavement was a slender figure dressed in black.  Lolita's fashion window spotlight beam illuminated the store manikin.  It reflected off thick red lips and the passing ladies large blue eyes.  The silence of the day had been broken by the rhythm of a woman’s walk.

My swift jogging movement startled the attractive brunette.  I stopped a three-mile daily exercise run as I noticed her body quiver.  “Please forgive me for scarring you. It is an unusual morning.  You must have thought I was a mugger."  She was so pale.  “Make friends with your mugger.”  Fear was still visible as I talked to calm her.  "Have you read any of the humorous slogans on our bus transportation lately.  Can you imagine making friends with a guy whose mugging you.  What will advertisers think of next.”  She studied me with less emotion.  “You look frozen may I apologize by buying you coffee.  There is a comfortable espresso bar down the hill.”  A smile ended the silence.  She was a stunning beauty.  All her fears disappeared.  A clear voice spoke her first words  “I must get to my destination.”  Her eyes pierced my soul.  In a soft voice I asked again.  “Have coffee with me.  I want to get to know you.”  She starred indecisively.  I had an instant attraction to the woman.  At five feet seven wearing two and one half inch heels she was a picture from a Revlon magazine ad.  A deep desire in my heart told me, don’t let her get away from you.  I wanted her.  I had a chemical reaction.  “You are making me believe in love at first sight.  A cup of coffee is not intimacy.”  Her computer imaging brain waves absorbed every feature and detail of my human body.  She was still laughing at my remarks as she delivered an approval message, “I prefer Frapaccino.”  “Wonderful I prefer Cappuccino, were opposites.  I understand why I am attracted to you.”

Her angelic face could have been a ballerina image from the artist Degas oil painting.  Hear confident voice projected the passion of a mature woman.  Wrapped in a black tight leather suit it framed her exceptional figure.  Call it lust, I was swept away as we talked.

EndChapter Two