Her firm ass cheeks and young pussy flashed before my eyes before she stopped. “My god, Deb, they’re really pretty,” I said, responding to her ...question. “How do you manage to walk in them?” “Oh, I’ve had lots of practice. Sometimes I borrow Sarah’s and dress up like she does and just walk around my room.” Deb looked directly at me and winked saying, “You know, like when you were painting and peeked into my room.” She walked over to the other side of the kitchen table shaking her ass like. The dress barely came down to her wrists. The missing button at the bottom gave a flash of the wonderful things behind, exposing almost all of those wonderfully long, slender, athletic legs that seemed to go to her armpits. She walked with a large Gucci bag over one shoulder which she tried to use for cover. Her fishtail braid had been started above her neck and secured with a rubber band after a few twists. The majority of the remaining curly reddish-brown hair hung loose down the right side. Before Snow knew it, she was utterly lost, even having been raised in this castle her whole life, all 17 years of it, she had never been to the room she found herself in now. Someone used the room, that much was clear, there wasn't a speck of dust in the room. The odd thing was, other than an ornately decorated mirror against the very back wall, there seemed to be nothing at all in the room.Something about the mirror beckoned Snow to come closer, and as she did, she was shocked that it wasn't. Sunday morning, our families showed up with a portable storage bin and enough cardboard boxes to move an entire household. Mostly, Mom, Dad, and I handed things to people who itemized them, boxed them, and labeled the boxes so we’d know exactly where things were. Even a few broken treasures were put in the boxes. Ignoring the safety warning we’d been given, several of the men moved into the demolished section of the house and removed anything from our bedrooms that wasn’t totally destroyed..