Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder

Chapter 4: Chris

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations
portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons,
events or locations is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for
distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading
the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book
should be directed to: raywild@aol.com

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	She looked out the spy hole and caught herself as a loud moan tried
to escape her throat. Even with the diminution caused by the lens, the
sight that greeted her was overwhelming. He was standing too close to the
door for her to see his entire body, but what she could made her throb
powerfully between her legs. She began to reach for the key in the lock,
then hesitated, realizing she wasn't dressed for company. She wasn't
exactly a fashion slave, and the
disheveled-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-whipped-myself-into-an-orgasm-over-you
look could be appealing, but she wasn't sure she wanted this stud to meet
her under such conditions. And her head still hurt a bit from the bump on
the fridge.
	And the phone was ringing.
	Now what? She knew he could hear it outside. She let the machine
get it.
	"Hi, this is Chris. I can't come to the phone right now. . ." Chris
chuckled at that. "Leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as
possible. . .Beep."
	"Hi, Chris. This is Nicholas. We really need to talk. . ."
	Oh shit. This was about the shoot on Friday. She really needed to
talk to him as well. The jerk had some numskull idea about the layout for
his ad and she had to talk him out of it. She really wanted the account;
knew the product he was introducing was going to be a big hit. She knew
equally as well that if he was going to go forward with his idea, she
wanted to be as far away from it as possible.
	". . .about the idea I have for the print ad. I got the feeling
from our talk the other day that you weren't a hundred per cent on board
with me."
	Oh-oh. This sounded like he was having second thoughts. She really
needed to straighten things out with him. One more quick peek through the
spy-hole. The sight of his gargantuan shoulders, his Herculean arms, his
titanic chest. . .
	She sounded like she was writing ad copy. Superlatives were not her
norm, but the body she was looking at demanded description in the most
flowery language.
	Nicholas was still babbling into her machine. She tore herself from
the view and ran to her phone just as he was saying good-bye.