Her hair, a light brown withred highlights, hung in measured waves around her face, accentuatingthe gold flecks in her deep, brown eyes. I raised my ...and to touch myface, and so did she, our fingers passing over the straight, slightlyturned-up nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. My features, butdifferent: more delicate and set in a different frame."Does it?"I wanted to turn away. I didn't want to face this. If I did, it wouldmean that it was all really real, and I could never go back to. “My teacher-slut is fearful she might get caught,” Cordelia explained to the others and drew giggles. “Go ahead,” she then told the woman behind me, “just like we discussed.” Fabric rustled for a moment where the stranger stood, then there was a little pause. I did expect some kind of touch, but when fingernails trailed up both my thighs and the hem of my skirt followed the movement, I gasped nonetheless. There is something so sexy in feeling my skirt lifted and feeling the cool air touch the. More

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