To match her white thigh boots, she wore white, shiny pantyhose, a white latex body and long, fingerless, opera gloves. Her lips were of the same whit...... just like her eyes.A slow, drained, movement next to her boot caught her eye. She looked down and saw that one of the warriors was alive, desperately trying to grab on to her right boot.Juicy uncrossed her legs and with a playful move of her leg stomped upon his hand. The drained warrior let no sound out of his mouth but even his empty eyes. He was unmarried at the time. Denise was married and a junior partner in an advertising firm in Chicago.Denise, though not Wendy's biological daughter, behaved as if she was. By that I mean her gestures, expressions, and bearing (and swearing) were echoes of Wendy's. Nurture won out over nature in her case I guess, since Wendy had raised her from the age of five. Physically Denise resembled Wendy not at all. Where Wendy had dark hair and olive complexion, Denise was fair and blonde. Where Wendy. More

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