Curvaceous Stories

Winter was over, yet the Paris drizzle had remained into April. Little sun, and the dark grey skies matched the mood of Mike as he scanned each passing female. Paris is so large. His failure to find one beautiful, much beloved, face, after seven months searching was dragging him down. He strolled into a lane and headed for his favourite café, where, even though the sky remained grey, he was struck by instant sunlight. “Mi...