We lie as close as fingernails to skin
limbs sheathed in sheets.
I trace the names of lovers
down your collarbone.
Over your shoulder:
Her laughter, flattened under glass
~ Ménage à Trois by Eloise Stonborough
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| soulqueen (by pvs digitalart deviantart.com) |
Honey Trap
The Eclipse.
One of New Acres hippest nightclubs resides in a trendy part of town.
Big lights.
Big city.
Martha DeCosta
L'enfant terrible of the fashion world is coolly surveying the scene.
The dusky beauty is resolutely ignoring her personal assistant who is bemoaning the ungodly hour.
Jane Hardwick has been her loyal assistant since the early days.
And she knows Martha DeCosta like the back of her hand.
They both attended a fashion awards ceremony earlier in the evening.
It was so long winded and boring that Martha DeCosta nearly lost the will to live.
She is all too aware that her star is not as bright as it used to be.
She is still smarting from the fact that she was not put forward for one award.
The fickle world of fashion.
Martha DeCosta is a beautiful bi-racial woman.
She has warm, coffee coloured skin, sparkling hazel eyes and full sensual lips.
Although she never knew her Jamaican father as he walked out on her Scottish mother when she was three years old - DeCosta is proud of her ethnic mix.
The lithe and sinewy fashion designer is a professional hedonist and the The Eclipse is her lair.
Tonight Martha DeCosta is surrounded by a group of admirers at the far end of the bar.
The fashion maverick is accustomed to a bevy of admirers hanging on her every word.
In fact - she positively anticipates it.
But as her bright eyes dart quickly around the club, she is dismayed to see that the party appears to be carrying on without her.
She is not the star of this show.
It is certainly busy in The Eclipse tonight.
The music is pumping and nubile men and woman converge like a herd of gazelle onto the dance floor.
Bodies sway and gyrate rhythmically to the hypnotic beats that the DJ spins on his turntable.
The excitable crowd are like a pack of hungry animals prowling for a mate.
Or just a little bit of love to get them through the night.
The throng parted like the red sea as the exotic beauty swept onto the dance floor.
She managed to cut some grooves as her audience whistled and clapped in appreciation.
Martha DeCosta's serpentine moves effortlessly won new hearts and she left them all gasping for more as she glided off the dance floor to rapturous applause.
She loved the attention as all eyes followed her.
But it has been a slow night.
And Martha DeCosta is all too aware that familiarity breeds contempt.
And there is time enough to consider where she has come from as the sycophants around her tell her what she expects to hear.
This sybarite has done very well for herself.
She did not have a penny to her name when she arrived in New Acres tens years ago.
Now she can count her blessings.
Martha DeCosta is now a globally successful fashion designer who has left South London far, far behind.
Even if today, things aren't quite so fine and dandy for her in the cutthroat world of fashion with its fickle trends and back stabbing.
DeCosta is the sensualist who lives and breathes fashion.
And appearances matter.
She may dress actresses and starlets at Hollywood premieres - but she is no longer the big draw that she was.
It's nearly 2 am.
And Martha DeCosta has had an epiphany.
She is bored with the inevitability of her life - with its months spent designing outfits to dazzle fashion victims and her diary full of endless engagements.
The glitzy and gilded life she leads is tempered by high octane dramas.
And the battle to surpass the previous seasons greatness.
Martha DeCosta crosses her silky legs and takes another drag on her cigarette.
She is no longer paying any attention to the admirers crowding around her and jostling for her approval.
Bored.
Bored.
Boring.
Jane Hardwick has spent the last thirty minutes trying to persuade her to leave.
"You'll only get yourself into some kind of mischief if you stay!" The personal assistant informs Martha DeCosta.
But the calculating fashion designer merely shrugs back.
Tonight has been perfectly common place.
DeCosta looks dejectedly around her.
No hot stuff to buy her a drink.
Usually men are fighting over her.
DeCosta lets out a long sigh.
She has already smoked her way through half a packet of Benson and Hedges, and now she is getting restless.
Martha DeCosta is wearing a shimmering gold Christian Dior shift dress and gold Jimmy Choo heels and her big soft hair sports a streak of funky purple.
She proceeds to observe the eye candy.
Most of lads still look wet behind the ears.
Although they will probably be flexible enough in bed.
Their poor dress sense offends her sensibilities - but it's not their clothes she is interested in.
She notices with satisfaction that a few of the men have potential.
"Mmm - nice ass" Martha DeCosta purrs like a cat at the sight of a firm male bottom.
Her eyes hungrily follow the carousing young men.
"Very nice!" DeCosta pronounces with relish as she spies a taught male torso in a tight white t-shirt.
A smile of gratification spreads across her beautiful face.
Finally DeCosta dismisses her beleaguered personal assistant.
Although the sassy fashion designer expects complete obedience from everyone in her entourage - she can see that her personal assistant has had enough.
Gradually her neglected admirers disappear leaving DeCosta to smoke and drink alone at the bar.
Now she is free to spread her seductive net wide.
"I remember a time when men were bending over backward to please me!" Martha DeCosta informs the Spanish barman with a knowing smile.
"Any time baby!" He answers her with a wink.
She is one of his favourite people.
No one with a pulse can ignore her.
Where ever Martha DeCosta goes - she leaves a captive heart behind.
And an unmistakable trail of Mitsouko in her wake.
She is the high priestess of their hearts.
A gorgeous creature who inhabits a twilight world.
Now Martha DeCosta peers through a cloud of cigarette smoke as she notices a small group of good looking young men looking in her direction.
There is a frisson in the air.
The men are looking in her direction and talking animatedly among themselves.
It appears that the beautiful fashion designer has won herself new devotees.
Martha DeCosta offers the young men a big bright smile.
Then she slowly stubs out her cigarette and begins to drink suggestively from her glass.
Like a sleek black cat sipping its milk.
The young men are enthralled.
They are transfixed by her every move.
Xavier Leno slowly shakes his head and grins at Martha DeCosta.
He is fully aware of the effect that she has on men.
And women.
"You're just too good!" The barman informs her.
"They're not quite in my league" Martha DeCosta answers him knowingly ""Perhaps when they grow up - they can taste a little chocolate"
Then she winks at the eager lads.
Now Martha DeCosta ponders her next move.
It has been a less than stellar night.
Her lover will be waiting for her.
Paul Pittard.
Her French fancy.
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| nightclub (by michalsawtyruk deviantart.com) |
She took him and transformed him into a sharp suited music maestro.
DeCosta got him to play at all the big gigs and soon he was riding on a crest of a wave.
He obeyed her every desire.
In bed.
And out.
Martha DeCosta was the mistress and he was her love servant.
Paul Pittard is swarthy and good looking, with thick brown hair and piercing green eyes.
His talents as a DJ have won him hordes of fans and he is rarely seen in public without Martha DeCosta by his side.
Everything is timed to perfection.
She chooses his gigs.
She chooses his outfits.
And she chooses the amount of press he does.
He satisfies her in bed.
And everything is sunlight and roses in the garden once again.
They rarely fight.
They rarely talk to each other.
Everything is stage managed to perfection.
They are like a couple of actors performing in a play.
After some silent deliberation - Martha DeCosta strolls meaningfully over to the group of young men who have been looking in her direction.
"Isn't it past your bedtime boys?" DeCosta asks them with an impish smile as she glides past.
All eyes follow the slinky beauty as she walks to the ladies restroom.
Then she slowly turns to them and blows them all a kiss.
An audible sigh rises among them.
Then she disappears into the restroom leaving her newest followers in a state of delirium.
Martha DeCosta - femme fatale.
Fifteen minutes later and Martha DeCosta is back at the bar.
She is considering calling it a night and just as when she is about to get up and make her way to the cloak room - she notices him.
A tall blond man drinking vodka on the rocks at the other end of the bar.
He is tanned and classically handsome with chiseled features.
Martha DeCosta pauses at the sight of the lonesome stranger.
It is instant.
It is electric.
The sharp minded fashion designer hasn't felt like this since the first night she met Paul Pittard.
There is the unmistakable promise of sensuality in the air.
And Martha DeCosta is rising to the occasion.
Tonight she wants to shake up her world.
And he has promise.
The man at the end of the bar has clear blue eyes and a lazy smile.
He is dressed in a pale blue Reiss suit and brown brogues.
They can deal with that later.
It's not his clothes that she is after.
Without missing a beat, DeCosta glides down the length of the bar and sidles up to the handsome loner.
She places herself on the bar stool beside him and bestows him with a warm smile.
He is tall and athletic with elegant hands.
Martha DeCosta smiles with satisfaction.
Then she slowly and suggestively crosses her long legs.
His eyes trail the length of her body from head to foot.
She has him.
Martha DeCosta - the praying mantis of New Acres.
Ensnaring men with her sex appeal.
"Hello stranger!" Martha DeCosta says brightly "All alone?"
The man smiles with amusement at the audacity of the dusky beauty.
"What did you say your name was again?" Martha DeCosta enquires with a mischievous look in her eyes.
"I didn't!" The man replies with a smile "My name is Peter - Peter Chance"
The scintillating fashion designer immediately holds out her hand.
The handsome man kisses it flamboyantly.
DeCosta is instantly impressed.
"I think you'll do nicely"
"My name is Martha DeCosta!" She declares "You might have heard of me!"
"Everyone knows who you are!" Peter replies "You're certainly a hard person to ignore!"
"Try telling this lot! " DeCosta responds in mock indignation, signalling the boisterous clubbers.
"There is no accounting for taste" Hathaway informs her.
"Manners and charm!" Martha DeCosta informs him with a broad grin "I am impressed!"
"Let me buy you another drink then!" He adds with a smile.
"I'll have what you're having" DeCosta replies suggestively.
Her hand brushes against his arm lightly.
A bolt of electricity flashes through her arching body.
"Yeah baby"
Her eyes follow the man's firm bottom as he goes to order the drinks.
Martha DeCosta's inventive mind begins to weigh up the situation presenting itself to her.
The appearance of the delectable Peter Chance poses her with a conundrum.
They have made a powerful connection.
And she wants to welcome Chance to her world.
But she doesn't want to disrupt the status quo of her life with Paul Pittard.
DeCosta pouts as she considers her predicament.
She does not want to take a secret lover.
But it would be a shame to waste all that talent.
"Perhaps he doesn't have to be so secret after all!" DeCosta murmurs thoughtfully.
Perhaps she could manoeuvre Peter Chance into a special relationship.
An advantageous relationship with fringe benefits to satisfy all participants.
A new kind of relationship to generate the kind of media attention she craves and the kind of media interest that will resuscitate her career.
Martha DeCosta is grinning from ear to ear by the time she has hatched her plan.
"Ménage à trois" She declares brightly.
Peter Chance flashes DeCosta with a smile at the bar.
The devious fashion designer is still grinning as her hazel eyes blaze.
"Yes" DeCosta whispers "I think you'll do very nicely indeed"
The plush apartment he shares with Martha DeCosta in an exclusive private complex.
He is about to turn in.
Suddenly his attention is drawn by a cacophony of noise outside in the road.
He squints into the darkness.
Paul Pittard watches with a mixture of awe and bemusement as two figures stumble along the driveway.
The two figures are clutching each other and swaggering shakily toward the apartment.
Pittard strains to focus on them in the dark.
The lamp light illuminates Martha DeCosta now.
She is giggling loudly in the company of a mystery man.
DeCosta is holding a bottle of Pinot Meunier in one hand and with the other hand she is tugging the good looking young man in her wake.
The captivating fashion designer is full of surprises.
Paul Pittard's eyes widen.
Then he shakes his head.
"Vous êtes fou!" The Frenchman sighs.
Here comes his mad and beautiful lover.
Five minutes later and Martha DeCosta is standing in the luxurious apartment with her new stray.
"Ta dah!" She exclaims with wild flashing eyes "Et voila!"
The blond man smiles nervously at Paul Pittard.
"Peter meet Paul!" Martha DeCosta exclaims loudly.
Then she dissolves into a fresh fit of giggles.
Both men awkwardly acknowledge each other.
"We met in The Eclipse!" DeCosta explains
The two men look blankly at each other
Nefertiti the slinky sleek black cat has glided into the room.
She stares at the two men with feline bemusement.
"Can I keep him?" Martha DeCosta purrs.
Paul Pittard shrugs.
There is no arguing with DeCosta in this state.
The woman grins broadly.
Then she takes a swig from the bottle of champagne.
She is triumphant.
An unspoken agreement has been made.
Martha DeCosta sleeps with Paul.
And Peter Chance sleeps on the white leather sofa with Nefertiti.
The wily fashion designer smiles to herself as she lies in bed beside Pittard.
She has plans for Peter Chance.
Later that day, Martha DeCosta observes the two handsome men.
They appear to be getting along famously.
She strokes Nefertiti and smiles knowingly to herself.
Everything has fallen into place like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.
Earlier in the morning - Paul Pittard made love to her.
Not long after - she took Peter Chance by the hand and they made love in the shower cubicle.
It was as easy as that.
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| nude en fuego (by artsoteria deviantart,com) |
Nefertiti purrs back at her contentedly as she strokes the creature.
She is as gratified as her feline companion.
Everything is going to plan.
Both men are willing to fulfill her every need.
"Why settle for one lover?" DeCosta informs her personal assistant on the phone "When you can have two?"
"Double the trouble!" The disgruntled woman informs her.
"Twice the sex!" Martha DeCosta replies brightly.
"How well do you really know this new man, Martha?" The personal assistant asks her.
"I know enough to know that he will do exactly as I tell him!" DeCosta answers.
"Is that really good enough?" The woman enquires knowingly.
"It is when he's lying in my bed" Martha DeCosta finishes firmly.
The personal assistant shrugs.
She knows from past experience that there is no remonstrating with the steely minded fashion designer.
Three days later and the Martha DeCosta is in London and choosing a new bed at Heals.
She spends the rest of the day searching for soft furnishings around Oxford Street in London.
The canny fashion designer has left her two lovers at the apartment to amuse themselves.
And she delights in the flashing cameras as she leaves Selfridges laden with shopping bags.
Martha DeCosta is waiting for the right psychological moment to unleash her two lovers on the world.
Sexy British fashion designer Martha DeCosta was on a wild London shopping spree yesterday. The award winning designer took her time at Heals to pick an exclusive designer bed. "She seemed to be on a special mission to find the biggest bed" a shop assistant commented.
DeCosta throws down the newspaper as a broad smile spreads across her beautiful face.
The delicious thrill of anticipation.
The following week she takes Peter Chance to Carnaby Street.
The media are out in force as she strides confidently from one shop arm in arm with her new lover.
Cameras are flashing from all directions.
And she is loving it.
"Is this your new friend?" A reporter cries out to her.
"He is more than a friend!" Martha DeCosta replies knowingly.
Then she begins posing like a professional beside her new man as cameramen jostle in front her to get the best shot.
Peter Chance grins back blankly at their audience - showing flashing white teeth.
He has been instructed not to speak to the paparazzi by his dominating lover.
Chance obeys her and follows her around like a puppy.
In the days that follow - there are tantalising glimpses of Martha DeCosta's two lovers leaving her apartment.
Everything is expertly timed.
They appear dressed in the same silver Valentino suits.
And Martha DeCosta blithely emerges from her love nest with both men on her arm to party in London.
"Where did you find the other one?" The American model Julie Neville asks DeCosta at the glitzy party at the Café Royal.
"I guess I just picked him up!" DeCosta replies knowingly "Isn't he lovely?"
"You are a naughty girl!" Neville informs her friend with an impish smile.
Both women silently observe the handsome blond man as he charms a small group of party goers around him.
"Didn't I do well!"
The following day, newspapers and magazines are fill of images of the decadent London party.
Several photos depict Martha DeCosta arriving at the venue - arm in arm with both her lovers.
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance are dressed in identical dapper TM Lewin navy sharkskin suits.
The photos also show a radiant DeCosta dancing suggestively between the two handsome men.
Her snaky dance with her lovers generates a media storm.
Just as she intended.
At the premier of Hollywood blockbuster Horror Mountain - Martha DeCosta arrives accompanied by her two lovers.
She completely upstages the stars of the film as all eyes are on her and her men.
DeCosta is standing in a whirlwind of attention.
And she is loving every minute of it.
"One man is good" DeCosta gushes to the reporters and photographers surrounding her "But two men are twice the fun!"
The men stand beside her like two dolls.
They are the two dolls that the fashion designer dresses up and plays with.
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance smile and wave to their audience.
They have been expressively informed not to talk about their love triangle to the press.
They are a couple of expensively trussed mannequins.
Reporters and photographers now remain permanently camped outside DeCosta's swanky apartment.
They feverishly await her emergence so they can catch a glimpse of her and her lovers.
Newly rejuvenated - the devious fashion designer sets about designing her new collection.
She is on a creative.
Everything is going exactly as she planned.
Both her lovers have obeyed her without compunction.
She rewards them with a trip to Rome.
And a fresh surge of media attention.
Two weeks of romantic Roman splendour pass in a daze.
Martha DeCosta enjoys the Vatican city with her two hunks. The sexy British fashion designer made sure she had her two lovers close by so they could keep her warm at night. A source close to the award-winning designer suggested that DeCosta was planning to marry one of her lovers and keep the other one as her love-slave. The fashion designer was unavailable for comment last night.
Martha DeCosta guffaws with laughter as she tosses the newspaper aside.
She is sitting up in her big silken bed - between her two lovers.
"Welcome to my world, big boys!" Martha DeCosta sighs.
Several months in the golden glare of the media has breathed new life into her flagging career.
And it only intensifies as her fashion show draws nearer.
Paris Fashion Week arrives in a blaze of global publicity.
The French are already in love with the dusky beauty and her unconventional love life.
She makes her first appearance at the world famous fashion show dressed in a black figure hugging Versace dress standing between her two lovers.
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance are dressed in black Paul Smith suits.
The beautiful trio have captured the imagination of the French press.
She gets a standing ovation at the end as she holds up the hand of her favourite model - Julia Neville.
As the after-show celebrations flow at the Le Carmen, Martha DeCosta basks in all the glory.
"You are back on form!" Jane Hardwick informs her.
"And I have my two boys to thank for that!" DeCosta replies motioning to Paul Pittard and Peter Chance who are talking animatedly among themselves.
"Those two Frankenstein's monsters you've created" Hardwick comments wryly "I just hope it doesn't all blow up in your face!"
"Why should it?" Martha DeCosta replies "We're beautiful people aren't we?"
And with that, the sylph like beauty slinks away leaving behind a singularly unimpressed personal assistant behind.
"What have you done?" Jane Hardwick murmurs as she observes the two stunning men whispering into each others ears.
Hardwick predicts that it is only a matter of time before everything comes crashing down around Martha DeCosta's feet.
Just a matter of time.
Sunrise.
Dressed in a white faux fur coat with her soft afro hair exploding upon her shoulders - the fashion designer is radiantly beautiful.
"I guess what all our viewers want to know is how you captured two men's hearts?" Deidre Chase asks her.
Martha DeCosta pouts for a moment.
Then she turns to the camera.
"Sex" DeCosta replies provocatively "I like sex and sex likes me"
And the stunning fashion designer smiles brightly at the camera.
That evening, Martha DeCosta enjoys a first class dinner with her two lovers at The Premier.
The ultra-expensive diner for the super rich.
Only the elite can afford to eat there.
Dressed in a delicate pink Chloe evening dress and gold Jimmy Choo heels - the bi-racial beauty looks like a Princess.
Her two Princes are dressed in Mos Bros tuxedos.
Two stuffed dummies answering her beck and call.
Martha DeCosta basks in all the attention as all eyes follow her and her men.
Apparently the wine is on the house.
Before the night is over - she has some news for her two lovers.
"On Friday, I will be flying to New York for three weeks for a meeting with the editor of American Classique" Martha DeCosta informs them "Anna Wimbour would like to print a special article to showcase my work"
The two men are used to her protracted absences and think nothing of it.
"I'm sure you'll find some way to amuse yourselves" DeCosta concludes.
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance look knowingly at each other.
As Martha DeCosta takes another sip of Chablis.
Several days later and the elegant fashion designer is sitting in the swanky New York office of Anna Wimbour at Classique.
Two female gladiators in the fashion arena.
Martha DeCosta is the sybarite living life to her own rules.
"I must say I am very impressed by your candour" Wimbour informs the dusky beauty "The whole world appears to be at your feet"
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| cat underground black edition (by ilonaxxx deviantart.com) |
"Aren't you worried that they might be taking advantage of your absence?" The editor presses her.
"I don't believe there is any need to worry" DeCosta answers with a big smile "I have them very well trained. I keep them both on a tight leash"
The American editor laughs lightly.
Within days the stunning fashion designer is on a plane back to England.
She is on a euphoric high as she peers out of her small window at the clouds.
Everything is going to plan.
Martha DeCosta smiles slyly to herself.
Then she notices several male passengers looking in her direction.
The calculating fashion designer revels in gratification at their glances.
What could be better?
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance.
Waiting for her back at the apartment.
Martha DeCosta is going to surprise them with her early return.
And then they shall really celebrate.
It is 11.45 pm when the cab pulls up outside Martha DeCosta's luxury apartment.
"Home at last!" She declares with jubilation.
DeCosta is returning to her lair in triumph.
But a look of consternation flickers briefly across her beautiful face.
The entire apartment appears to be shrouded in darkness.
"My puss cats must be in their beds!" DeCosta declares "I'll soon wake them up!"
Sex.
The breath of life for Martha DeCosta.
Perhaps she'll have them both at the same time.
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance.
Ready and willing to fulfill her every need.
Two love soldiers standing to attention.
Two delicious chocolates saved until last.
And Martha DeCosta is like a kid in a sweet shop.
Life is good.
"Oh yeah, baby"
As she finally closes the apartment door quietly behind her and wheels in her heavy designer suitcases to a halt - Martha DeCosta breathes a big sigh of relief.
She flicks on a light.
DeCosta is met at the door by her slinky feline compatriot - Nefertiti the black cat.
The creature purrs with appreciation at the return of her owner - and she nuzzles her little head against the willowy fashion designers long legs.
"Did you miss me baby?" Martha DeCosta enquires sweetly as she tenderly scoops up the cat in her arms.
The cat mews contentedly.
The panther-like fashion designer fancies herself as something of a big cat.
She certainly has the claws to show for it.
Suddenly a loud male laugh shakes her out of her reverie.
DeCosta smiles knowingly to herself.
Nefertiti purrs loudly at her.
She concludes that Paul Pittard and Peter Chance will soon be getting something else to smile about.
DeCosta goes into the elegant bathroom to run herself a bath.
She lights several Diptyque candles.
Just as she is about to pour Jo Malone bath oil into the warm running water, DeCosta hears a male laugh again.
But this time it stops her dead in her tracks.
Martha DeCosta walks out of the bathroom and begins flicking lights on.
The laughter seems to be getting louder.
All the other rooms are empty.
Slowly she turns to face the only room she hasn't checked.
Her bedroom.
A cold realisation seeps over her as she stares at the chink of light at the partially open door.
Nefertiti purrs knowingly at her.
She pushes the door slowly open.
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance jump up in the big silken bed as Martha DeCosta opens the door on them.
Both the naked men gasp in horror and tug the silken sheets to cover their modesty.
To cover the two taut bodies that she has been enjoying.
"We can explain everything!" Paul Pittard protests in his heavily accented voice.
Both men scrabble out of the bed and begin hurriedly dressing themselves as Martha DeCosta stares in mute disbelief.
"Please don't be angry with us!" Peter Chance pleads plaintively as he tugs on his jeans.
Suddenly he looks like a little boy.
But there is no need for further debate.
Martha DeCosta closes the door on her two erstwhile lovers.
The apartment is silent now.
Save for the sound of running water in the bathroom.
Martha DeCosta tears off her Marc Jabobs coat and tugs off her Louboutin heels as she sinks into the white leather sofa.
Then she bursts into uncontrollable peals of laughter.
The bitter irony of it all.
She has been humiliated by her two slaves.
And she knows deep down that it is poetic justice.
Martha DeCosta has got exactly what she deserves.
All her self awareness and voracious sexual appetite and she still couldn't tell the sexual predilections of her two lovers.
"Menage à trois!" Martha DeCosta exclaims sourly.
Both stricken men are standing at the bedroom door fully dressed now.
"Please mon amour!" Paul Pittard implores her "We can explain everything to you!"
Slowly Martha DeCosta turns to face her two errant lovers.
"Take your things and close the door behind you!" She replies smoothly.
Both their faces have fallen.
"And don't let the door hit you on the ass as you leave!" Martha DeCosta finishes.
Nefertiti leaps up onto her knees and purrs knowingly at her.
Paul Pittard and Peter Chance stare disconsolately at their mistress.
"Fly away Peter, fly away Paul"
Martha DeCosta smiles broadly at her erstwhile lovers.
But this time - she does so without mirth.
Because nobody finds the predicament amusing any more.
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| Amber Stretch (by artsoteria deviantart.com) |
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