I stared into the mirror. A wild blonde slut staredback at me, her huge, glittering cleavage heaving with breathlesspassion. Her plump red lips hung...open; gasping, pleading, yearning. Theravenous look in her glassy blue eyes begged for sex. Screamed for it.And through the fog of my cloudy bimbo brain, one truth cut through withperfect clarity.That pleading whore was me.I only looked for an instant, but it was far more than I could handle.Mimi's gasping reflection filling my head, I tore into. Everything else I needed called for a tram ride into the city centre.Mrs Patel saw me as I opened the shop door. She scowled, called outsomething in a mysterious language and disappeared into the back. Aminute later Mr Patel steered his belly to the space behind the counterand gave me his cheery smile. I'm not sure how Mrs Patel discovered myjob, maybe the number of condoms I'd bought when I'd started, but asmuch as she wouldn't speak to or serve me, or let her children on theshop floor if I. But before I say anything else, believe me when I say that I love you, and that you are the most important person in my life."The serious tone of voice set him back a bit, while not totally foreign, it wasn't one that he heard very often, and rarely if ever in a conversation between the two of them, and especially not when prefaced with a profession of love. "What is it Donna, what are you trying to tell me?" Steve said, the concern evident in his voice."I wish there was some easy way to say. Something in my nature just builds up relationships with people I want to fuck subconsciously. A wink here, and a smile there, the fundamentals in getting your dick stuck into the love pie. Allavolja there are many other tiny gestures and movements involved in the wonderful dance, after all the aim is not to be considered a weirdo or freak. An offering to her temple of boredom, a sacrifice placed in her hands to be used at her moment of the most romantic lone loving, between her sheets, where I.