Less than twenty four hours later, Jennifer Salvatore checked her mail on the computer in her bedroom at home. She maintained a couple of hotmail accounts, but the one that was of most interest to her just now was the account which she used primarily for her growing relationship with Rotter, or Jeff as she increasingly thought of him. It was also the address she had written on the mirror in the charity shop, hoping to hea...

Jennifer Salvatore breathed in and stood up on tip toe and strained to pull up the too-tight denim shorts over her pert little ass. Her blond hair was still damp from the shower, and hung over her shoulders in a tangled wet mess, and her bouncing figure, still struggling into the shorts, caused a droplet of water to drip from the straggly ends of her hair and to roll coolly down her back until it was absorbed in the waist...