Charisma Part 1

“Oh!” Tiffany blushed at her mistake. “Can you tell me where she’s relocated?”

Mr. Fenner nodded. “As a matter of fact, I can,” he declared. “Just a moment, please.” He returned to his desk, consulted a file, and scribbled her new address. Handing the slip of paper to Tiffany, he said, “She’s one of my customers.”

Tiffany beamed. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” the insurance agent said, his eyes taking in the bounty of Tiffany’s magnificent bosom.

She saw him staring, and her smile broadened. They never get too old to admire a pair of tits, she thought, especially when they’re enhanced by such a wonderful product as the bra she wore beneath her tight silk blouse.

The new address was on the outskirts of town. It was still early in the day. Rush hour wouldn’t start for another couple of hours. She could make it to the new address in half an hour or less. She was excited, because she wouldn’t have to settle for complimenting some executive about the wonderful bra; she could thank its creator, Charisma, herself!

The next address wasn’t home to Charisma, either. It was occupied by Blanche Deevers, a beautician. Blanche, a tall, striking redhead, was busy teasing the frizzy blonde tresses of a willowy blonde when the bell tinkled above her shop’s front door, announcing Tiffany’s entrance.

“Be right with you,” Blanche called.

“Oh, I’m not here for a haircut or a makeover,” Tiffany said.

“What do you want, then, honey? A manicure?”

Tiffany blushed. “Just some information, I’m afraid.” Blanche’s features hardened. “You a cop?” she demanded. It was obvious to Tiffany that the beautician didn’t care for police officers.

“No, nothing like that.”

Blanche addressed her customer: “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” the blonde replied.