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Because I loved my shoes. Stilettos, or sandals, or any kind of sexy heels . . . My closet was full of them, and I took every opportunity I could to wear them.
Girl
She’d turn twenty-one in a few months, but I’d swear she was in her thirties, maturity-wise. Cassidy was an old soul, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Her boyfriend was in his early forties.
HELLO WHAT
so I stood there dumbfounded and with my mouth hanging open. “Are you kidding me?”
always had a high threshold for pain—at least that’s what I’d been told. I didn’t mind a blister or a shoe strap cutting across the top of my foot. I dealt with the discomfort because I loved my heels and enjoyed both the ache and the release of
I hatehr
“Why is that guy waving to me?” He chuckled. “He’s not.”
It was so much tamer than what I’d done with Clay this afternoon, not to mention . . . this all felt normal.
Porn and countless movies had conditioned me to think only young, beautiful people were allowed to play, to enjoy. But this guy and his older sub were real people—not
Girl
“Where were we?” “We were going to talk about how this is going to work.” My smile hung. “Talk?”
What if my question, like, offended him?
The week after my date with Travis, private DMs from a married, conservative politician leaked online, and his atrocious and graphic texts to his mistress gave us a lot to talk about. I’d started it off by jokingly asking why I didn’t get horny texts riddled with typos from either of my men.
Rather than be an adult and talk about my feelings like I’d promised Clay I would, I avoided it.
The guys gave me shit about wearing heels while carrying boxes into the house, but I just laughed.
Insanity
