Or did I? Not really. She was a selfish, silly girl. I remember her like I remember my old friends from high school. Like I know my colleagues from th... restaurant. Like I remember my mom, my sis, my real sister, I mean. But I know I am not she. Not now. Not ever do I want to be her, anymore.I am Giselle. I am Angique's girl. That thought makes my blood surge. My body and soul are Angique's. She is the woman I need to call Mistress. I cannot live without her anymore. She is the woman who watches. Yet I believed her. I brought her into my home and led her down the hall to my daughter’s former bedroom. I waited for her as she went to the restroom. And now it was time to show her how passion could be built, stoked, fueled and burn. I looked forward to it. Parts of me were already rising to the challenge! We kissed and my arms pulled her to me. I could feel the matronly strapless bra pushing into my chest. With practiced movements, my left thumb slid to the seam, fingers reached to. More

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