Tiffany was very sincere about everything. I hated Raena.“Well, good, I guess,” Matt said, “Anyway. We need clear blue shirts and black pants.�...“Black bottoms?” Eden suggested, “Trust me you want to put Dawn in a skirt.”“And you too.” I retorted, almost like a counterpunch.“Oh, yeah, I guess--”“We should do white bottoms,” Eden declared, “Makes the color scheme a bit more cheery.”“Yeah, that works,” Matt shrugged, “I don’t own any white pants, so let’s hit up Slate’s.”“I need a blue shirt,” I. He glanced at Jon who nodded assent. Then he walked toward the bed. Meg stood, slowly unbuttoned Mark's shirt, she pulled it open and ran the flat of her tongue up and across each of his nipples. She felt him shudder, felt the involuntary movement of him towards her. Oh, she thought, this was so very different. She felt his hands on the front of the thin blouse, scrabbling slightly to release the buttons. God she thought, she was so nervous, all the worries about a stranger intruded on her. More

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