”“I need a blue shirt,” I replied.“Sweetie, you need all new clothes.” Eden shook her head. I was more comfortable with that than with her compliment of my legs. I never did get my answer to who were Drowning Miranda. I had a phone. I didn’t look. Could I have? I had asked Matt and received nothing. I didn’t look.Slate’s was across the street in a small strip mall from The Halifax Shopping Centre. It was attached to the Wal-Mart. We started in the mall. Eden had her purse. I barely had pockets. Matt paid for both of us. Four salesgirls, all too large or too ugly for Matt. Eden seemed pleased to keep the slap bands in her purse. I didn’t carry any. Was Eden trusted in ways I wasn’t? I doubted it. Matt probably just didn’t have extras when we crossed paths.I was wearing the white skirt out of the store. I was walking in new shoes. No heels, Eden nixed that idea. You didn’t wear heels and serve. Good. I’d worn heels three times since Matt found me. I’d fallen over twice. My shirt was in. As we pushed it aside it was clear that this barn wasn't being used for The House of Lush. Not until now anyway. It was empty, with a concrete floor and half of the roof missing. A shaft of moonlight illuminated part of the far wall. "We won't be disturbed here," said Heather as she pulled my shirt off. I unzipped her dress and it fell to the floor. My fingers fumbling to unclasp her bra. I felt my jeans slip down my legs and Heather's hand slipped inside my boxers. Her lips pressed against mine as she began wanking my cock. I responded to her kisses. My passion matched hers. Her soft lips against mine, her tongue pushing into my mouth. A hunger for each other than could only be quenched one way. Her other hand trailed up and down my thigh as my hands slid inside the waistband of her panties and lowered them. My hands moved to her bum, clasping her cheeks and pulling her against me. She released my cock and wrapped her arms around my neck. Our groins grinding against each other,.
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