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Next afternoon as I climbed the stairs to her flat she stood at her front door, she stepped out to meet me wearing knee length Trousers and a off white t shirt . I froze in my tracks and stared at her legs, my heart leaping into my throat. They were endless, beautifully portioned, and went all the way up. She smiled a knowing smile at me when our eyes finally met, and for the first time, I realized how big and beautiful they really were. , there was an unspoiled beauty on her face that captivated me from the onset.The off white top she wore barely hid the tiny upturned mounds of her breasts, and her hips were straight and quite remarkable. I noticed the look on her face was somewhat different than I had seen before, and as she stepped towards me and took my trembling hand, I began to struggle as my knees became jelly. I was embarrassed and frightened, and wanted to run away as she led me firmly into the front room with an air of anticipation. Where is the furniture you wanted to be. Theboard of the little family-owned bank -- Gentry had married in, though noone was blunt enough to say that -- felt they needed one as well.So I found myself sitting again in the large, sunlit living room of thatbig brick house on the old Lynchburg road. She perched on the edge of aflowery sofa, tucking herself into place with care, fussing a little withthe hem of a pleated skirt. I found myself watching those little gesturesclosely, with something like a note-taker's care. I knew I saw things,little things, I hadn't noticed before. A gesture I might try, perhaps.The plucking, thumb and forefinger, a hand to the cheek, that's how youdo, what does it mean? Good to see the little things, to think about thelittle gestures, since she didn't have much to say, really. She hadalready told me when he left, that the police found the car. What she hadto tell me now was something she didn't want to: The family wanted toengage me to keep on looking.They also wanted me to stay away from the bank.
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