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Steve was a little in love with her too,’ he laughed. Emily wished that he would get to the point and soon, because her muscles were beginning to ache from being tied up and she couldn’t see what any of this had to do with her. As if reading her mind he began to need her limbs, ‘Patience little one. It’s all part of the story. It wasn’t until I was about fifteen and Steve was eighteen when we found out the truth about Mom. Everything was cool, I was a sophomore, in high school, Steve was taking classes at a community college and was assistant manager at a gym. Life was pretty good. One night when all three of us were home, which was a rare thing, there was a loud banging on the door. I was the first one to the door, and when I opened it, Robin, collapsed in my arms. ‘Mom was screaming and Steve was talking about calling the police. Robin, as weak as she was, was very firm about not calling the police. She was a messed both of her eyes had been blacked and blood was running out of her. The skirt fit flat across my tummy and jutted out halfway to the hem resting on the ruffles, it seemed. I lifted the front hem and waved the skirt up and down (...at the imaginary person behind the mirror). Here, get a good picture of this, the conspiracy freak inside me hollered to no one. As I waved I was treated to repeated, delicious snap shots of slices of the black ruffled panties. I assumed a dancer's Third Position, carefully angling my naked feet and looked at the way the skirt draped across my full, taut bum. I like it, said The Voice. I agreed with the The Voice. No one else may like it. But right this second, I like it, I thought. Then I noticed that the zipper was bulging apart and exposing the black satin panel of my bloomer in the rear. I reached back to engage the zipper but my contortion and the way the skirt fit so snugly on me kept me from getting a good hold on it. SWOOOSH. "How's it....oh, look, it's nice, lemme get that," said my clerk turned valet..
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