"Brother? Oh -- him! Er, sure. I mean, there's some stuff thatguys can't talk to guys about because it's stuff you only tell --uh,girls, you know?" Well, I hope you can tell me!" I lightly chaffed, impulsively brushingback a long raven tress rushing my cheek as though demurely emphasizingmy 'Velvet Brown' likeness, even sensing a weird sly smugness in thefeminine motion and recalling its effect upon me in the car's rearviewmirror and projecting how it must affect him in turn. Just like it wasfaintly stirring now deep my skirt."Heck, I'll tell you stuff till the cows come home -- and the goats too!"he japed like a virgin bragging a suaveness never earned or tried, and atthat moment almost giddy relief swept me because I knew I wouldn't bemocked or derided posing this way because reality was suspended whereJerry was just a third party and Erin was Paul's fancy come true. Hewasn't quite sure exactly who or what 'Erin' was; a jesting role-playcharacter, a female multiple personality, or. Here goes nothing, she thought, pulling it open.Stepping inside, she found it unnervingly warm. Chelsea hung to the side, hands behind her back and sporting a huge smile. The Maitre'd stepped in front of Elaine and in a thick French accent asked if she had a booking. Almost choking on her words, she managed, "Duke." Ah, oui," said the Maitre'd, straightening a little. "Monsieur is waiting for you. He requested a booth in the back." By his tone, Elaine was certain this was somehow inconvenient. "Follow me, Mademoiselle."Taking the side of her skirt in her hand so she wouldn't trip over it, she followed the feisty little man, noticing Chelsea right behind her, grinning madly. Elaine continued to take deep breaths. She wished her roommates knew what she was getting into. Then they'd understand. Or could they? Maybe they had no way of understanding what turned Elaine on. Maybe they lacked the ability to perceive the mental freedom and physical ecstasy possible in D/s. Well, duh. As if.
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