Chapter Two ~ Brenda

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Brenda

"Would you just look at her," I whisper to Davina, "She's totally smitten with him. We need to find that girl a fuck buddy and very soon. I can see the steam coming off her thighs."

Davina giggles. "Oh my God, she's not realised that she's been washing his hair for at least ten minutes. It's like watching a low budget soft porn movie," she whispers back, followed by her girly giggle again.

"We need to find her a male hooker for a night; she needs to release some tension. She's so stressed and moody just lately," I'm serious, that girl needs to get laid – fast. Just recently, my best friend has been reserved and withdrawn from everyone around her. It's hard to comprehend sometimes how a beautiful woman has not been snapped up, married off and spat out a million kids. I know she wants those things; we've discussed those topics so many times. I notice the longing in her eyes every time she looks at me and Simon. My husband of twelve years and I have three children – Jamie who's eight, Marie who's six and Barney who's three. My family life is exceptional. When Clarissa spends time with all of us, it's hard not to notice her aspiration and I know she would make a fabulous mother, just by the way she interacts with my children – and they love their aunty Clarissa.

"I don't think she'd like that," Davina says, I didn't mean literally, I was joking. I do know some things about her, she is my best friend.

"Yes, I know, honey; I meant it as a laugh, that's all." Davina is pretty, dumb as fuck, but I love her – we all do. She has a tendency to take things literally, her common sense classes at school must have been cancelled and I'm positive her parents dropped her on her head, how else would someone be lacking a sense of humour? Don't even get me started on that no good boyfriend of hers, the guy is a waste of space and how he gets so many women to sleep with him, I'll never know. I know Davina adores the scum bag, I keep telling her to dump him, find someone worthy of her, but she always runs back to him when he starts crying and promising that he'll never do it again. Hell would freeze over before he kept it in his pants - that I know for sure. Davina's long blonde hair and crystal clear blue eyes define her stunning looks. If I was white and twenty years younger, I would want to look just like her. But I'm black; I have a chunky arse and thighs, huge tits and a slim waist. Davina is a stunning young lady. She's slim, tall, around five feet eight inches tall. She's roughly two inches taller than me. Her long flowing blonde hair is always shiny and healthy. Her light blue eyes and pale skin round off her beauty. I love to watch the cute freckles on her nose and cheeks dance when she smiles.

All four of us girls are different; Clarissa is stunningly beautiful, with light brown hair, a well rounded figure and brown eyes. Carla is stunning; she has black hair, styled in a bob, with red highlights and green eyes. We all have a different dress sense, skin tones and personalities, but somehow we all click. We laugh and cry with each other and love to spend time together, either as a group or just in two's or three's. These girls mean the world to me; I would use my very last breath to protect them, as they would me.

Talk of the Devil, he's bound to appear, I say to myself as Carla comes rushing in. She's two hours late for work, so pretending to rush is not going to do her any favours with the boss. I see Clarissa scowl at Carla; I just know that they will be having words again, just like they do every Monday morning. Carla shows up late, makes some poor excuse then doesn't hide the fact that she's spent the whole weekend with whatever guy she's managed to ensnare. Because Clarissa and Carla are great friends, that's the reason Carla is let off lightly for her indiscretions.

"You know, Carla gets away with murder," I say, verbalising my thoughts.

I see the cogs churning in Davina's mind, "she's a murderer?" She states. "I didn't know that about her, who has she killed?" I can't help the little snort that escapes me.

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