Mr. White wore a wide handlebar moustache and cowboy boots.

"Why no, sir,” Wanda replied.

Mr. White cleared his throat as he sat down behind a huge, cluttered desk.

"Thought I heard you take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” he said grumpily as he made himself comfortable. “Thought I did."

"No sir,” she said. She was sorry she'd reacted so violently to his appearance. It was just that she had imagined him so differently. Her garters were still coming together over the surface of her cunt, exciting her.

He placed his hands behind his bull neck, exercising his eyes by opening and closing them, and cleared his throat again.

"So, Madam, what can I do for you this fine summer morning?” He was gruff, with the voice and manner of a giant.

"I'm looking for a two-room apartment in the neighborhood,” Wanda replied sweetly, turning on the charm. She showed her white, even teeth and subtly moved her upper body just enough to give sway to her ample breasts, which began to undulate in a rhythm no eye could miss.

"Ah, so,” he rejoined. “In our little neighborhood here?"

"Yes sir, preferably not far from the subway on Sixth Avenue. You see, I am going to get a job and I will need convenient transportation.” She smiled beautifully, showing a gleam in her lovely soft eyes, “If it's possible, I would like something on this street or the next street. Maybe you have something vacant there?"

"Hmm… you don't have a job?"

"No. But don't you worry, Mr. White. You are Mr. White, aren't you, sir?” He nodded and closed his eyes. She was going to tell him she was independently wealthy.

"You see, sir, I have a lot of money and I always pay my way.” With this, she uncrossed her long, nyloned legs and gave him just a tiny flash of the silky white skin above the expensive stockings she'd bought. She wondered if he'd caught a glimpse of her garters.