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Old 08-02-2009, 09:57 AM View Post #16 (Link)
miss_smiley (Offline)
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Join Date: Mar 2009
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"Argh, God!" Stella sighed with raw exasperation, tugging at the defiant pantyhose.
Dammit! Why do I have to dress up anyway?! Damn graduation ceremony!
Annoyed, frustrated and just plain tired, she slumped on the ground, spreading out on the lush, carpeted floor.
She "hmmphed" to herself.
It was Silvia's graduation night - the night she would leave school behind, possibly forever - she still didn't want to go to university, a fact that galled Stella to no end. Why, Stella had asked her once, would you want to spend your days doing doldrum work for a minimal wage, when you have the brains to go on to better things? But Silvia was Silvia, and would do things her way. No one would be able to do a thing about it: trying to oppose Silvia was about as effective as using your hands to make a tunnel in a rock. She was stubborn, and that was a fact.
Stella heard footsteps creep up the stairs, the sound of them like soft 'whumps' as her ear lay against the soft carpet of her room.
They stopped abruptly. Then:
"Stella! Oh God! Stella!!!"
In a heartbeat, her husband had knelt beside her, his long fingers already at her wrist, checking for a pulse.
She looked at him, her frown quickly wearing through to an amused smile. "Yes, Paul?"
He just stared at her for a moment. "Oh. Oh. I see." He lifted an eyebrow at her. "You scared me so. What are you doing on the floor?"
She pointed at her pantyhose. "I'm sick to death of these things, Paul. Do I have to wear them?"
Paul merely laughed. "Yes. And you're going to thank me for making you wear them, love. Now hurry up. Time is our enemy."
"Like any women over the age of forty doesn't know that..." Stella muttered to herself as Paul helped her to her feet.

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