“I’m coming kiddo!”
From rattling the knob Amy goes to hitting the door with her shoulder. No soap. Luckily there’s no deadbolt. When she steps back and kicks it, the flimsy lock pops and the door flies open. In that big girl bounds, a large purse over her shoulder and a wooden paddle cradled in her arms. I see this has a bow tied about the handle, while the flat blade is decorated/perforated by a pattern of three Greek letters formed of closely drilled holes.
Amy’s wearing knee-high spike-heeled boots. Tucked into these are tight jeans, heavily ripped and threadbare. A white silk blouse is molded beautifully to her braless breasts by the shiny black belt that cinches in her svelte belly. Crimson-tinted fingernails filed into long pointy talons tip newly muscular limbs that boast of seri
