Jeanie Mitchell was the kind of young woman who got things done. She was confident, assured and had ambition. Lots of ambition.

From the moment she saw the line of fashion magazines at the local town store, she was obsessed with fashion. Dresses, shoes, handbags and all the other things make up the fashion world. Her parents relented when they realised that their little girl would not be happy being a farmer’s wife and, in any case, her older brother would stay on the family farm.

Jeanie began working at ‘Girl’ magazine as a trainee at the age of 17. Within six months, she moved to ‘Lady’ magazine. Six months after that, she got the chance to work at ‘AZ Fashion’. In the space of just one year, she had climbed her way from trainee to junior writer at one of the most prestigious magazines in the fashion world.

The world opened up for her. Paris. Rome. Tokyo. Fashion shoots all around the world with famous models and designers. The great fashion houses let her inside their secret world, and Jeanie revelled in it all.

She came to understand that this world had so many layers and also the misconceptions. The men were not all gay. The women were not all bitches. Money did rule, and there was a lot of money. Millions upon millions. Billions upon billions. The river of money appeared endless, and of course, with the money came power and influence.

Money, power and the third pillar of this world was sex. Sex was everywhere. In the models’ bodies as they walked back and forth on the catwalks and photo shoots. Sex in the way the clothes were worn. Sex in the way it manipulated the people themselves. The power of money and sex was a steady undercurrent, making its presence felt at every point in the world of fashion.

Jeanie had affairs that lasted a few weeks, passionate affairs that ended abruptly. Steamy one-night stands where her body was lusted over and shared. Romantic connections that drifted along with a kiss and caress of the fingers.

Then there was Roy.

Roy was a successful photojournalist. He was a freelancer and moved in and out of the fashion world like a soft breeze moving through an open window. Sometimes here, sometimes there. Occasionally, nowhere. That is what Roy, constantly moving from place to place with

They met at a party, and Jeanie and Roy were drawn to each other. Roy lusted after her, and she lusted after him. Within minutes, they were arm in arm, heading out of the party to have a very private party of their own.

At her apartment, they tore the clothes from each other, pulling and ripping fabric and buttons. He kissed her, and she responded. Arms reached around each other, and their naked bodies pressed hard, skin against skin. Panting and moaning, his cock found the soft pink folds of Jeanie’s sex, and he pushed himself against her. She spread her legs and welcomed his cock into her body. They fucked like animals, thrusting and grinding their bodies together. Lust, passion, desire. They enjoyed all of those emotions they enjoyed with each other’s bodies. Sex at its most raw and basic form.

Roy threw her onto the bed and mounted her with his cock. She moaned, screamed, and yelled with sexual passion. They were rutting together, urging each other on to fuck and fuck in a frenzy of sex. Jennie had orgasm after orgasm. The sex was intense between them. Time and the world beyond the four walls of the bedroom did not matter. They were both infatuated with each other.

Grinding their bodies against one another, they achieved orgasm after orgasm like it was a compulsion. An unrelenting emotional basic sexual desire that they had to fulfil.

They finally exhausted themselves and lay down on the bed. Jeanie looked up at the ceiling. Roy smoked a cigarette.