When I looked over at the architect to ask him something, he was looking right down my shirt. I just smiled and pretended not to notice what he had been doing. My father came back a minute later and I stood up saying that everything looked good to me and thanked them all. I had to get out of there - I was wicked worked up and I didn't want my father to notice that I had been flashing these guys.I guess that was the defining moment that set everything else into play. I loved that they had been checking me out and that night, I got myself off thinking about it again. It really drove me crazy to know that these guys had seen my breasts, particularly Jake and Pete. Later as I lay naked in my bed, I fantasized about those big hands rubbing all over my body. I started to rub my pussy and I fantasized about them seeing me getting myself off like this. That was enough to send me over the edge in a shivering orgasm. I turned off the lights and went to sleep thinking about them.I wasn't really. Get on the right side of her.’ For the next two days, I busied myself handing over my projects with bad grace to ‘Young Carstairs.’ Friday morning I began the long drive to the High Country and the ‘old girl’, Meredith Blye-Smyth’s English style manor. The first day took me across the low coastal hills, then out on to the plains beyond. A seemingly endless ribbon of road stretch in front of me, at times nearly lulling me into sleep. Thoughts of Rosemary kept jerking me into wakefulness, and I dwelt upon my bitter memories of that night. I had decided that women were not to be trusted, and I would have no more to do with them. The High Country appeared on the horizon, bare mountaintops rising above forests of gum trees like baldheads above Tudor ruffs. It was evening and low dark clouds brought on the darkness even before sunset. I stopped at a third rate motel in a small township, the name of which escapes me. As I signed for my room the scruffy motel owner commented, ‘There’ll be.
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