We'd been friends thanks to her older sister. And one night, in a joking conversation, I texted her and told her I was bored, and she should come visi.... I didn't really expect anything out of it. Knowing Miranda lived a half-hour away, I figured it would be maybe a good text conversation, some dirty messages, things we'd done before. Until she showed up on my doorstep, knocked on my door, and came into the house.We were hesitant, talking, laughing, and then it led to the jokes. Then it led to. Her words confirmed it. ‘Lisa Welles is gay, too.’ For a second, Lauren didn’t catch on. When she did, her eyes widened. ‘Grace—’ ‘Well, not gay,’ Grace confided, her almond coloured eyes gleamingat her sister. ‘She’s bi.’ Lauren’s mouth half opened in shock. ‘Grace! You didn’t! Not with another woman?’ Her older sister leered at her, playfully running a finger along Lauren’s exposed thigh. That black skirt really was too short. ‘Better be careful, little sis,’ she teased. ‘It looks like your. I had no idea!" she gasped as she leafed through the centerfold feature again."What do you mean you had no idea? You were there weren't you?" Yes, yes of course, but I had some wine to calm me down. I don't remember much after that." Oh, come on, Denise. That's about the weakest excuse i've ever heard. Some wine would have made you a bit tipsy but too much would simply have put your lights out. I've seen you drink." He grabbed the magazine and turned to the photo of Denise, at the moment of. It was about an hour later when there came a knock on my door, a definite female kind of demand for attention, firm yet light of the weight that a male knuckle places upon a door. I lay my Sunday paper on the table beside my cereal and coffee, and stepped through the living room towards the front door, pausing to check on the vidcam that it was indeed a woman at the door. She was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, slim in the most part, though just beginning to show a middle aged belly.
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