As you stand by the Starbucks counter you see me approach and feelings of both anxiety and pleasure rush over you, as I notice a man smirk and walk aw...y from you. My hand lightly embraces your arm and I lean in gently kissing your cheek and smile not wanting to be too forward; a slight rush warms you making your face slightly flushed. We exchange a few pleasantries and I ask you if that man was your husband? You smile and nod “yes”, mentioning he is going to be working late and that perhaps we. But not by that much.I was taller, stronger, could jump higher, and had played a lot of streetball. But DJ was athletic, coordinated, and had the fundamentals drilled into her by the high school team for a couple of years. I’d sorta forgotten about that last part. She knew what she was doing, could dribble with either hand, and had enough range to make a decent percentage of 3-pointers. After playing turnstile defense for the first few minutes and watching her score bucket after bucket after. She was slim, pretty and naïve; she regularly attended the Litton Baptist Church and was saving her virtue for her wedding day.The Manager of the Litton Farmer's Bank was Abbot Balfour, a fat balding man with piggy eyes in his early sixties who was prone to sweat even when the air conditioning was cranked up to maximum. Abbot was not at the bank; as had been his routine for many years, at midday on the last Friday of the month he was flying the last leg of a round trip to Kansas City and his. I havebrown eyes, long brown hair, small but attractive-looking breasts. Iwear the finest clothes, and always a small amount of tasteful andexpensive jewellery. A small gold and amber ring, an amber necklace oneach wrist, amber studs in my ears, and a flat gold necklace, and it isthe necklace that I hate. I can write all this down and get away withit, but if I were to try and say it out loud the necklace would chokeme, even kill me if I really rebelled. It might seem like magic but infact it is.
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