Aimee left on her date that wasn't really a date, leaving Karla alone. Karla hated being alone. After pacing around the apartment for a while trying to find something to do with herself, she decided the night called for alcohol and dancing, even if it was Sunday. She began to rummage around in her closet, looking for the outfit that would keep her from having to pay for her own drinks. Men were always so eager to help a slutty-looking girl. In the end, she chose a pair of white jeans, with holes in very strategic places, which hugged her ass almost as tight as her skin. She wore a blue blouse that tied in the front and fell open over the top of her breasts, revealing quite a bit of the softness of her round globes, and left her tummy exposed. As she was running a brush through her hair, her cell phone went off. The number wasn't in her contacts, which she thought odd. "Hello?" "Karla Harper? This is Mitch Greenway. Brad asked me to reach out to you about your sister's car.""Oh, yes,
Karla scanned the place, trying to see if anyone tickled her fancy, but so far Sand Dune seemed all paired up. That was okay. The night was still young and held promise. At least, the band was decent, a reggae beat to go with the beach theme of the bar. She held her drink and watched an older couple twirling out on the dance floor, not a care in the world from what she could see. That was the way she would be when she was older. She didn't want to have to worry about anything, like her parents did when she was younger. They hardly ever ventured out that she could remember, the struggle to keep the bills paid always prevalent in their household. They weren't necessarily dirt poor, but they struggled enough that Karla felt she never possessed what she wanted out of life. She vowed she would never feel like that again and used whatever means necessary to get what she wanted out of life. So far, everything worked in her favor.She tried to do the same for Aimee, but her sister was too hung
Aimee wasn't sure what to think, much less say. Until just a few moments ago, she didn't dare think of Clint as someone she could date. He was just the guy in the apartment building she helped out once in a while and who appeared in her fantasies. He was a friend. Safe. He had a daughter. He was the single father whose wife ran off. He was the reason she masturbated so much.She remembered how he came across when he first moved into the Sea Breeze Condominiums with Abigail, looking for a fresh start to life, forlorn and lost. Aimee would see them in the elevator or at the pool, occasionally down at the beach. At first, it was a wave here or a smile and a nod there. Bonnie left a few months prior and Clint walked around like a beaten dog, trying to make the most of what life dumped on him. Eventually, he dragged himself out of his funk and became a more cheerful human being, his smiles bigger, waves more inviting. They began to talk more and Abigail would run up to hug her. His babysitt
Mitch had his hands on her waist, keeping her pinned to his crotch, which was announcing his plans for the evening. She ground herself on his swollen member, teasing him with the thought that his plans could be hers, as well. She had one hand around him as the other played with her dark hair, the strands falling from her fingertips in small waves, her hips gyrating a seductive dance that promised if they shed their clothes, she would be more than eager to fulfill his manhood's wishes. Of course, it was all a tease—at least, for now. It was how the game was played. Karla allowed men to think they had a chance with her, so she could manipulate them into giving her what she wanted. Once they did, she usually fulfilled those teasing moments. She couldn't have word get out that she only frustrated men now, could she? She may need something from them down the road, so it paid never to burn a bridge. Sometimes, she gave it up ahead of time, but that was usually only when she knew she was goi
Aimee was home when Karla arrived and already in her pajamas, which resembled something Mary Tyler Moore wore on the ancient Dick Van Dyke Show. Karla rolled her eyes. Even when alone her sister had her body buttoned up tight. "You know, you could at least wear just a tee-shirt or even a nightie. What's with the man's pajamas?"Aimee just finished fixing herself a cup of hot tea in the kitchen and was in the middle of crossing the room when Karla entered the apartment. Hearing her sister's criticism, Aimee stopped and glanced down at her outfit. "What's wrong with my pajamas? They're comfortable.""They're boring. They're also men's pajamas. At least wear something feminine."Aimee shook her head. "Please. I'll wear whatever makes me comfortable. I'm not trying to seduce my sister or her boyfriends.""Do you even own anything sexy? What would you have worn if Clint went for the home run? You couldn't come out like that. It would scare him off for sure."Aimee plopped herself down on th
The weekend screeched to a halt and Aimee dreaded it. At least, she was able to go into work late, and hopefully, she'd be getting her car fixed. That's it, Aimee girl, keep looking for that silver lining. She was tired of sputtering around town, balancing the gas and brake pedals just to keep herself moving. She feared being stranded on the side of some highway being honked at by those who didn't want to stop to help her out, unless of course, she was willing to help them out in the backseat in exchange. She just wanted to get from point A to point B without the hassle. It wasn't really too much to ask, was it? Apparently, the Universe thought so.If she hated Mondays, Karla hated them more. It probably didn't help that she usually stayed out drinking all night and was hung over come morning. Aimee already pounded on her sister's door three times, reminding her that she was taking Aimee to get the car inspected. Karla just grunted at her through the door.Aimee showered, dressed for h
She watched as Karla drove off—in her perfectly running Dodge Caliber. Taking a deep breath, she tried to exhale the anger that continued to boil inside of her on the ride over. She didn't need to face her day pissed off at her sister. That would only transfer to the people who came through the doors of Benson and Taylor Law Firm, where she worked as a receptionist. Those clients were already uptight when they arrived, they didn't need her adding to their mood. Turning toward the back door, she took another breath. It was going to be hard after dealing with her sister's antics all morning.Once inside, she went to the coffee pot and poured a cup to keep her company. An elderly couple already sat in the lobby of the office, the woman twirling a handkerchief in her hands while her husband scribbled away on a notepad he held on his lap. Aimee smiled and said good morning as she walked around the tall receptionist's desk, sitting her mug down next to the desk calendar that covered the top
Betty Harper held the soup spoon in front of her mouth, blowing on it, sending the steam billowing away from her, before swallowing. Aimee stuffed a forkful of salad into her mouth, wishing all the while she had a hamburger. Her mother offered to pick her up and take her to lunch since her car was in the shop, which worked out well since Aimee was in such a rush that morning she forgot to pack a lunch. She hated not having her car."How long before it's fixed?""The mechanic said it would be ready by tomorrow afternoon. Ginny is taking me home tonight and I'm sure I can get Karla to bring me back tomorrow. She has nothing else to do. I may need your help getting the car when it's ready, however, if you're available.""I can do that. You still coming for dinner tonight?""Sure. I'm always up for a pot roast, especially yours. I never could get the recipe right when I was at college."Betty laughed as she scooped up another spoonful of her corn chowder. "No one knows how to cook in colle