He felt a disgusted wince wrinkle his features at the swishing sound of her bloated thighs smearing together as she walked, even though when he walked... his bloated thighs made exactly the same noise. ‘Is Mr. Styles in? Would it be possible to see him this afternoon?’ the melodic voice asked ever so sweetly. Rather coarse and firm, Lena interjected, decidedly put out: ‘No ma’am. Mr. Styles won’t be seeing anyone this afternoon. Fill out the application and leave it with me. If he’s interested,. Finally he went to the wardrobe and took out apair of the black ballet style pumps. He wasn't yet ready to venture outin heels so this choice of possible footwear was possibly the least worstoption. The pumps felt strange on his feet but he had to admit that theydid go well with the hipster trousers.As a final touch he picked one of the perfume bottles and tentativelysprayed a cloud of the scent into the air. He felt the sticky dropletsfalling around him and clinging to his hair, his clothes. More

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