"I've done this hundreds of times, trust me okay... Look there arehandholds and the beam is plenty safe to walk on, okay." I continued on tothe edge a...d maneuvered to the outside of the tower, to a ladder that wentup the side of the building that was resting on the top of the tower. "Areyou okay?" I asked. He just nodded and started to follow me as I climbedup the ladder to the top of the building.Once were both sitting on the top, the adrenaline of that last ten feetsurging through us. Paul. Thirty-odd faces turned in her direction, the omnipresent murmuring dying down for a second. Angique was a tall, slender woman. Her pale skin contrasted with the pitch-black cloud of her bob style hair. Thick eyebrows hid behind bangs. Her eyes were green, shaded by long, dark lashes. A straight nose pointed down to a generous mouth, painted in gothic purple. She loved dramatic contrasts — like the whiteness of her exposed throat and chest against the black leather of her corset. She also loved. The driveway was blocked by the two police vans and his route was cut-off by the silly cement urns that his parents had insisted be placed along the edges like some Greek entryway of pretentious design.They didn't have to say anything.He just cut the engine and waited for the handcuffs feeling some degree of relief that the whole mess had finally come to an end. He didn't feel particularly defeated. It was just a setback in his eyes. A setback that could be rectified at a later date depending. “So this is some kind of blackmail?” She hoped her voice remained steady.Her eyes were fixed on the erotic scenes as Serge went on, “But now, final pictures that told me how desperate you might be.”A swift montage of hot-blooded images before a shot April immediately recognised. She was alone, seated on the garden bench, one hand on her breasts, the other poised on the hem of her skirt. The skirt she’d worn for the first time just yesterday.And the next shot, with her skirt following her hand.