Room 2D

From Uniform Girls 27 ‘Sally! Come in here!’ She scuttled into the office, her heartbeat already rising. ‘This is a telex from Mr Marshall; and he is very annoyed!’ Sally pursed her lips. She couldn’t think why Mr Marshall should have been in touch… about her. What on earth had she done wrong now? ‘You remember that conference call to New York, yesterday afternoon?’ Sally nodded. It had been her last major job of the day. ‘What happened at the end of it?’ Sally suddenly remembered. The call had lasted ages, and she had slipped out to make some coffee; then Mr Jones in Personnel had seen her in the corridor about a file; and after that… well… it had been time to go home… ‘You left the line open, didn’t you? And open it remained until the International Operator rang Head Office to check!’ Sally’s manager stood up, and briskly cleared his desk-top, collecting the paperwork and placing it in a neat pile above a filing cabinet. ‘The ...

From Uniform Girls 25, with extra pictures from New Justice 3.02 ‘Can I see you tomorrow?’ he said, his voice eager. ‘I could meet you after work and we could have something to eat and then…’ ‘No,’ she cut in sharply. ‘Not tomorrow. I can’t see you tomorrow.’ His face fell. at this sudden dash of cold water breaking in on the giddy way he felt. He wanted to see her every day — and he assumed she felt the same. She was a year younger, 18, and just fantastic: her face and her figure too. She worked in a local shop: had been there all the time he had been here at the university, six months now, but he hadn’t known, not until last Friday when he had chanced to go in… and somehow… because he wasn’t usually very bold with strange girls, especially fantastic looking ones. Friday and today was Monday: it was like a dream. ‘Not Tuesday,’ she said, producing a sympathetic smile in response to the look on his face. ‘I can’t. Or Thursday...

From Uniform Girls 24. No words, just some rather nice pictures — a prequel to Timber Treatment .

From Blushes Supplement 19 She heard the car crunch in the driveway and from the bedroom window peeked out and saw it. Made a face. She knew that car all right: an old black Rover. Inside were dark red leather seats. She could smell those seats. The back seat. And the car’s owner, he had a certain smell too: tweed trousers and tobacco. Bloody hell. She knew he was due to come this afternoon, Mr Batford had told her, but there was always the possibility that something might have happened so that he couldn’t. But it hadn’t. His bloody old car now in the driveway. She turned away from the window as she saw the door open. Bloody, bloody hell. Going to look in the mirror. She had better be looking spick and span because Mr Grangely would pick on anything. Any little thing. Patting her hair. Examining her face, the full mouth with a light touch of pink lipstick that Mr Batford liked. ‘A pretty girl,’ Mr Grangely would say. ‘Pretty but...