Stamping the street, Frank felt that perhaps she now knew he had finally possessed her.
She dreamed about the day he would leave his wife, so that she would get a better parking space.
The sound of zipping leather made Wendy smile, but knowing that her parking spot would be labeled with her new title was what really put a pep in her spiked-heel step.
Once the mayor of Stepford laid down the mistress signal, it wouldn’t be long before the Caped Courtesan appeared to do his bidding.
Jocelyn wanted to give “tramp stamp” a whole new meaning.
Jeff audibly laughed, this was the third stamp he had passed by on his way to work today; the new artist in town was really attracting a lot of buzz for their art show this coming Friday.
He had promised her a personalized parking space, and he delivered.
Dr. Francis, for once, had nothing to say but bent to pick up the cigarette butt and dropped it in the trash.
Karen hated that stupid, sexist, paternalistic term; she scratched it out, muttered “Get it right” and painted “Gullible”.
When Samantha realized even the local graffiti artist knew who paid her rent she also realized that maybe, just maybe, this had all been a mistake.
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