3
Bruce knocked on the front door of his sister’s house until finally a long-legged brunette answered. She wore tight-fitting black jeans, which accented her tight butt and shapely hips. Her long, flowing dark hair rested on her bare shoulders. The tight red tube top she wore barely contained her firm, nicely rounded breasts. In her scarlet-fingernailed right hand, she carried a lit cigarette that emitted a trail of thin, gray smoke. The smoke followed her as she moved.
Her dark eyes sparkled when she saw Bruce standing on the doorstep.
“Why hello, handsome. What can I do for you?”
“Hi. I’m Bruce Carstairs. Sharon’s brother. Is she here?”
“Nope. She’s out at the store. Wanna come in and wait?”
“Sure,” Bruce said, nodding.
Stepping aside to let him pass, she took a hit from her cigar
