Let's see if the shoes fit."They did, as I knew they would. He was a bit wobbly, as the heels were very high, probably too high for a beginner. Then I... put the necklace on him, a little makeup, a spritz of perfume. I stood back and admired my handiwork. I was impressed. If someone had looked through the window then, and somehow not noticed the obvious bulge in his panties, they would have only seen two beautiful women in skimpy lingerie.I made him look at himself in the full-length mirror on the. I ache around the careful hug she so softly employs to swaddle his recently renovated chest and the lump in my throat, like half a biscuit — I’ve forgotten how to swallow or to seek out the half a coffee to wash it down. A better person would be moved, warmed to the core, by this tender loving vision, yet, my flawed meandering mind manages to stain even this. Again, it seems, I cannot help it. I find myself considering what range and brands of pain these two beautiful forever-bound souls. I needed some relief. I needed to be fucked.I heard the keys in the door so I didn't move a muscle. My heart pounded hard with the curiosity of his reaction. I heard the door close and a voice say "Kris, what are you doing? We have company" I flipped over to see a tall, thin black man standing next to my husband smiling. I jumped up and tried to cover myself. It was a little late for that. I hurried past my husband and the stranger into the bedroom. I was so ashamed I didn't think I could go. Wallerman asked.“Tell him where Jake is. He’ll go investigate.”“What do I do when he comes back in the house?”“He won’t.”“How do you know?”“I’ll be waiting for him. I’ll take him away.”“Where?”“Is that important?”Mrs. Wallerman studied Steele. “I guess not,” she said in a low voice.“You don’t sound very sure. Look, Ratchett murdered my friend.”Mrs. Wallerman’s eyes opened wide.“That’s why I’m here,” Steele said. “And I think Ratchett had something to do with the disappearance of my friend’s.