Chapter Seventeen (More experimenting)

It was later that evening. The cronk was on its way through the sewage system according to Trackmypoo.com and the sausages had been consumed and were on their way to becoming cronks themselves. Don’t you just love the human body!

The living room furniture was pushed back against the wall and Paula had changed out of her ‘lounging around the house’ gear. She was now quite smartly dressed for an evening of staying in which Phil was quick to point out.

‘I’m not going to show anyone the pictures honestly, it’s just a test and I’ll delete them straight after.’

‘I just feel better in these clothes, that’s all.’

‘But I want you to run.’

‘So?’

‘You’re wearing high heels!’

‘I know but….’

‘They won’t even be in the frame, I’m focused from your knees upwards.’

‘You think my dress is too short then?’

‘Nooooo!’

‘Alright, fine, I’ll take them off. Anything else mein furher?’

Phil walked over and pushed Paula’s stray strand of hair back onto her head, kissed her forehead and smiled, saying,

‘You look wonderful. I’d do you.’

‘You sweet talking bastard. Now take the bloody pictures!’

And finally, Phil did. He took a few with each camera as Paula ran up and down the living room in her bare feet wearing one of her best frocks and some hastily applied make-up.

It was time to inspect the results.

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About the author

Fresh from failing to be an actor, a singer and retaining a full head of hair Glyn is now attempting to be a photographer and a novelist. He has taken more pictures today than he has written words of his novel in the last six months. Some of them he regards as okay..

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