Her hair was jet black and curly, hanging well past her soft shoulders. I was momentarily distracted by her light touch. I could smell the sweet arom... of her perfume. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked. “Tequila,” I jokingly replied. “You’ll have to come back after we close for that,” she witfully replied, twisting a finger in her long hair. “Water will do,” I said. I watched as she stepped back through the doorway where we had stopped. Her designer jeans could not be any tighter. It was Susan's personal diary. Dismayed, she read the partial entry:Last night Denise experienced anal sex for the first time. She didn't say anything, but I know that she's sick to her stomach. I guess she's made the transition from considering herself a whore to believing she's one. She has no idea what kinds of things she's going to be doing over the next few months. God, I remember when that happened to me. I walked around like a robot for a week. I didn't realize that it was the first step. More

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