He ordered a bottle of beer for himself and a Lemon Martini for me. His back to me I found myself looking around the room, the lights made the people on the floor seem to stop in motion. A tall and handsome man approached John and put his hand on his shoulder and they began to speak. John obviously knew him from the smile and general attitude as they huddled close and spoke. John then handed him my leash and he led me to the dance floor. His hands rested on my hips and my hands intertwined behind his neck as we danced for a moment. His pelvis grinding against my sissy clit as he looked intently into my eyes. He spun me around and I could feel his hardening bulge pulse in the crack of my ass as his hands reached up under my shirt to caress my small budding breasts and erect nipples. His chin pushed back my hair and he kissed my neck then spoke, “yeah, you are gonna do just fine.” I was surprised that he seemed to have an African accent or maybe Caribbean. He then stopped and gave me a. Mom's psycho-happy face beamed joy and intimidation. The coconut cookies looked like snowballs, pale white against a pink-hued background, surrounded by confetti. A disembodied hand was reaching for one of the snowball-cookies; it made them look huge, like the size of a baseball. Surely it was a child's hand? No ... The cookies weren't really that big, were they? No wonder Mom was out of business.The cookies on the package seemed to glisten. Em wondered if they were sticky. She'd never actually had a macaroon, not the real bakery kind. When Em was little she'd seen them in a magazine at the doctor's office, and for weeks she wouldn't shut up about "the snowball cookies." Her mom had tried to make them a couple of times, but the coconut always burned..."Em, what are we gonna do?" Jovie's voice trembled.They were going to burn cookies.Emmeline yanked out a package of cookies. "Open these," she said. She got up, looking down the long row of boxes. Where'd that ... there it was. "I'll be.
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