It charged me. Electricity bounced off my skin igniting the stimulating throbs of want that engorged my nipples and clit. I could tell you felt it too...The words we would exchange that night were meaningful by necessity, yet meaningless in their essence. We both knew it wasn’t the time, nor the place to delve into the deep fleshy pit where we keep our skeletons and regrets from fucked up childhoods. But, I won’t ever forget the look in your eye. That inviting look told me everything I needed to. Her red silky shiny hair just reaching beyond her shoulder blades, curling ever so slightly at the edges. Her mini skirt hugging her ass tightly and showed off her long slim legs that were tucked into thigh high come-fuck-me boots. Her squenced black backless top drapped over her braless small but perky breast. Her green penetrating eyes met mine briefly as she glanced around and smiled at me with those full red scrumptious lips.When our eyes met I knew everything about her. That's one of my. .. I think Bobby Fisher left it in my room." said Denise with the usual lethargy that accompanied anything that wasn't drama, seducing hunky boys, or getting double-teamed after too many shots of fireball. "How do I look?" She turned to Claire for critique, but she really wanted affirmation that she slayed... and she did slay, but at times it was overbearing. Denise would turn any eye at the party on a regular day, but in those booty shorts and fishnet leggings the guys would be cross-eyed. “Miss Little has already met you several times,” I said, “and she knows you speak perfectly good English. Besides, neither of us speak a word of Russian so how’s that supposed to work?”“Brevka,” said Dad in a fake-Russian accent. “Dassayovitch.”“What does that mean?” I askedHe shrugged. “Haven’t got a clue. But it sure sounded ... ouch.” He stopped talking and rubbed his arm where Bonnie had pinched him.“Behave!” I said sternly and glared at Dad.He grinned at me cheekily, but he stopped.