Hold My Hair!
“I am so fucking good, aren’t I?!” Kerry smirked, turning to me, delighted by the vision she had created. I nodded in agreement. Kerry always managed to create a masterpiece.
As the new intern I was in awe. I had loved interior design from an early age. My father was friends with Kerry’s as they both worked in construction. My dad the builder and Kerry’s the architect.
When a vacancy came up in her company she approached me. In the throes of decorating my apartment, I was getting through my savings fast. When Kerry dropped by, impressed with my design scheme and asked would I like a design internship which included being her personal assistant, I jumped at the chance.
Relieved to finish the Knightsbridge apartment before the Saudi owners returned, Kerry was now ready for her chilled glass of Dom Perignon. She was satisfied with the final touches she had made. Her brief was to make the space ‘glam’ and bulbous gold chandeliers cast opulence. Plumping up the ample array of cushions, she took one last look before getting me to take photos for her portfolio.
Clients came to Kerry. Gone were the days of having to tout for business. Reputation was key and the more she upped the price, the more they came. Posing on Insta and YouTube in spray-on micro tops and liquid black leggings attracted big bucks and high-end clients.
Friday night was always special with Kerry. She liked to clip her hair high, before having an infused lemongrass and guava bath which I dutifully ran for her. Sipping champagne, she admired her saline mega-boobs bobbing above the bubbles. After luxuriating for ten minutes she took two final gulps before slamming down her Waterford flute. Stepping out from her bubbles I held her thick grey bath towel, warmed and ready to wrap.
After asking my opinion, she ignored my suggestion and settled on some Yves Saint Laurent heels and tight Prada black mini dress, Staring in her floor length mirror, she fondled and squeezed her breasts upwards, making sure her assets would be…