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Literature

The Stories of Steph Albany - Part I

He didn’t know what hit him. I did. I hit him. Not physically. But I slipped the Rohypnol into his beer when he left the room to go to the bathroom. Well, at least that’s what he said he was doing. As soon as his head dropped forward and he slumped to the side on his couch, I took off my blonde wig, fake eye lashes, and fake moles from my face. I threw them all into my tote and took out a pair of flats, replacing my black high heels. I also take out a pair of black leggings and slide them up under my black, sequin miniskirt. Need to be comfortable, right? This is the second time I’ve been in Sandro’s house. The first time we came back after our date I did not let him have sex me with. I did, however, get a great scout of the home and where the safe was. Also, where he kept his own tools and man crap like that. This time…I am still not going to let him have sex with me. I do appreciate his carnal interest in me, though. It’s made life much easier. I walk to the workshop in his