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Mom stopped and asked me a few questions and Dad just sat and listened, nodding his head a few times. I tried to play up the angle that it wasn't my idea and that I was an innocent victim in the whole mess. I hoped that would give me a little wiggle room and keep me out of therapy. I told them everything right up to the point that we walked into the kitchen."You said that they put Brandy's clothes in your room instead of yours," Mom asked."Yeah, I was hoping to get changed before you guys got home but I couldn't find any clothes," I answered."Did you check all the boxes and make sure yours weren't in there, too?" Yes, I was looking for anything that was mine. I even checked the washer and dryer." We have a small problem, then," Mom stated."Why is that?" I asked."The moving company has a donation program for old clothes and furniture that is unwanted in a move. I gave them all your boxes instead of hers." What?! You gave away my clothes!" Calm down, Jules, we can get you new stuff. The four guys seemed to know. They just did. I knew that Julia really liked one of them and as soon as he came out of the room where they were changing back into their street clothes, she caught hold of his hand and led him off to another room. The other three, I mean, seriously, such fit and handsome men, just stood there looking at me. They all knew I was wearing stockings and no bra and they stood there, full of confidence, knowing that I wanted to get fucked. One of them said ‘You’ve got the best tits of any girl here tonight. Go on, show us them’. I really wanted their hands on my breasts again. I slipped the shoulder straps off and the dress fell down. I thought it would stop at my waist, but it fell right down over my hips to the floor. One of the three strippers said ‘Oh fuck, just look at that body. Let’s not mess around guy, let’s just fuck her’.Within two seconds, their hands were all over me. I mean, really, they were groping, feeling and fingering me. Then one said.
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He could even make out the name quite clearly. On the transom someone had written, ‘Heaven’s Gate.’ Artie wasn’t sure of the significance to the owner, but it did have a ring to it. Later he saw what was presumably Leslie come and go a couple of times. The man, who drove up to the dock in the black town car, did not look a thing like the picture of Michael. They did not seem to be lovers, even though he held the door for her. Artie wrote down, then checked his license plate number on the internet. The car was owned by an executive car company. Those kinds of places were also known as executive taxi services. Leslie could have been going shopping, Artie did not know her well enough to know how she would have dressed to shop. She didn’t seem to be dressed to match the executive taxi service standards. She wore cut off jeans and a sloppy sweat shirt. Artie hurried down the stairs in time to pick up the baby limo as it pulled from the marina entrance. He followed along behind at a.

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