GORDON'S LUCKY DAYA short story by the modern bard This is a story of fiction and as such any similarities to persons past and present is totally circ...mstantial. If you believe that, I do a very nice line in London Bridges. Cheapest on E-bay please send your £10,000 with order to... It usually takes a few unfortunate coincidences and the fickle hand of fate, to make a story, not to mention an incident of breathtaking proportions. Of such things, are best sellers made.Lacking all these. It is actually none of his concern what the connection is between us, but he will likely be curious. Hell, I don't know the connection. Before leaving for work, I give Cheyenne my work number, then directions to the doctor's office. Her appointment is in the morning. I ask her to drop by the shop after.My supplier is waiting for me when I arrive at the shop. Two hours later, I am waving good bye as he leaves with his returned stock and leaving me to unpack the newest styles, many with a. Long, slender, tanned legs. She's wearing a tiny barley there black thong. She turns around to look at her ass in the mirror, giving me a good view of her smooth, tiny pert cheeks as she does. She's peering round appreciating her lovely ass as I do the same. She reaches round, grabbing both cheeks with her hands and pulls them apart. She smiles and giggles. What the fuck is she doing? She's slipping out of her thong now and turning back around the opposite way from before to face the mirror,. "Viens Mama [C'mon Mom]," Amelie yelled as she moved up the walk towards the front door."I've missed you Marie," I whispered as Sis moved to get out of the car. "Maybe tonight," I added grinning, forcing her reluctant hand momentarily onto my now straining shaft before releasing her."No! I can't, I won't," she promised, but wasn't able to hide the lust, the servile hunger in her eyes.When I finally arrived in the foyer of my two-hundred year old attached brownstone, laden still with the girls.