The street lamps lifted their feeble lights toward the sky as Stephanie
and Kathy each drove through the neighborhood where Stephanie lived. The
houses, Kathy noted mentally, were either identical twins or mirror images of
one another. Looking down the street, Kathy saw a lighted window gleaming in
the darkness. She followed Stephanie into the driveway of the neat, two-story
house, yellow chrysanthemums surrounding it as high as the windows.
Stephanie’s was a prosperous-looking abode.
Placing her arm around Kathy’s waist, her hand just below the firm mound
of Kathy’s breast, Stephanie carefully guided her up the flagstone walkway to
the oaken double doors of the entryway. Kathy didn’t seem to notice when
Stephanie’s hand ran itself across her breast as she moved to pull the door
key from her purse, her mind was preoccupied with the opulence she speculated
she would find beyond the door.
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