I got up, dusted myself off, and then landed on my ass thirty seconds later. I slipped trying to get up and wound up knocking over an entire high-top ...able. The two girls sitting there had been sharing a pitcher of beer. It wound up drenching all three of us. The red-head with short hair and an engaging smile tried to help me up. She slipped on the beer. Her friend, a tad plump and giving off a slightly exotic vibe, tried to assist. All three of us were rolling on the floor, laughing. Always. Sierra lay back on her leather armchair, flowers held lightly against her cheek. She thought this could make a scene in a movie and a tear rolled down that cheek into the flowers, not because she was posturing and she definitely was not unhappy, not now she was listening to Mirella Freni singing the haunting ‘Un Bel Di’ from Madam Butterfly. This was no co-incidence because the player had been set to repeated replay of this track before the courier announced his presence. Sierra drifted into a. Yvonne was so busy nervously glancing to left and right, that she still had not seen the shadowy figures watching from their dark vantage point. Now Yvonne was no more that fifteen yards from the two men. Rob stood slightly behind his wife and eased the sides of her unfastened nightie well open so as to fully display her naked body to the men. He cupped his wifes small breasts to highlight them, then slid his hands down his wifes body and stroked the insides of her thighs before fondling her. That worked out fine for her and I was able then to enjoy the rest of the on-field mayhem without brooding over the fact that my pleasant home was about to be invaded by yet a third insane red-headed female. Are the terms ‘red-headed’ and ‘insane’ redundant? I wasn’t sure ... but I’d be more than willing to bet on that! The game ended in a one-one tie, so it was a shared first-place (and participation trophies) all around. The twins were livid, but since they’d snagged a pair of yellow earning.
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