Half a minute later my attention is yet again drawn to those same dunes, this time by the sound of a distraught boy’s voice shouting out ‘And fuck...you too!’ but barely loud enough for her to hear it over the noise of the sea’s crashing waves. The owner of the voice soon appeared, a drop dead gorgeous boy with black curly hair, stumbling out as fast as he could, fiddling with his jeans, trying to fasten the top button. With no shirt on the first thing I noticed was his beautiful olive upper. .. "We chat a little before Amy and I head out shopping. I decide on a nice longwhite gown, very elegant, very plain, very form fitting, and some whiteopera gloves to go with it. And some new strappy heels... always some newheels.I say goodbye to Amy, and go home to another lonely night, and a restfulday, painting in my little studio, before getting the call."Hey Angela, it's Amy, should I pick you up, or should I give Dale youraddress?" Should I trust him with my address?" I reply, half. More

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