Stephanie Stevens

and hanging down in front of her, the short skirt she wore was clinging in all the right places, exposing the smooth creamy color of her legs. And that shade of blue on her breasts was... fuuuuck. That blouse was made of sin. As she went to turn a page, she brought a finger to her mouth to lick it, her pink tongue flicking against the tip quickly before she reached back to turn it. That was a terrible habit, I knew—to lick your fingers before touching anything, especially books—but I couldn't find the effort to care at the moment. My slacks