My friend Miranda has accompanied me here for moral support. We scale a no-frills metal staircase at the end of an alleyway behind the high street, where a weary blond woman is ruling a domain of coats, cash and lists. She has a defeated manner, like the only sober person at a party when everyone is drunk. I have no idea why I decided to make myself look so dowdy. Miranda is doing much better; she has obediently put on a basque, along with a skirt much shorter than mine, and boots that elongate her long legs.
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This is an interracial erotica story that I found on the experience project. Read it and tell me what you think. Nia had been calling every toy store in the state for days and days. When she woke in the morning, it was the first thing she thought about. The finance company that he worked for did business regularly with Logan Treasure Chest, an upscale Toy store downtown.