My Little VentrueInterlude 1 free porn video

~~2010~~

~~Ashley~~

Ashley sat up. Her bed. Her lovely, awesome, comfortable, super amazing bed. And normally it’d be empty.

“Julee, get up.”

“Nnnng.” Her friend rolled over and sank her face into her pillow.

“Get up!”

“Nng. Nnnn.”

Ashley rolled her eyes, and pulled down the blankets to expose the brunette. Both of them were in pajamas, pink for Ashley, purple for Julee.

It was Ashley’s bedroom, and the pink blankets were covered in pictures of kitties with big anime eyes. Julee preferred darker colors, and dogs instead of cats. Cause she was dumb. Cause cats were the best.

“Don’t you have classes today?” Ashley said.

“Nnnnno. Professor taking day off.”

Lazy ass professor. Julee was breezing on through her writing class cause the man was content to let his students not bother with class. Ashley’s Language Arts teacher wasn’t so nice. Second year university introduced some odd professors with weird habits.

Ashley crawled over onto Julee’s back, and straddled her. Her friend didn’t respond with anything more than a whimper and groan, and tried to dislodge her with as much effort as a comatose bear. Pathetic. Ashley laughed and lay down on her friend, elbows to the blankets.

“Got a boyfriend yet?”

Julee groaned and shook her head. “No. I thought Rick liked me, but I tried getting his attention a little more. Smiled at him, batted my eyelashes and stuff. Nothing.”

“He’s just a man, dumbass. You can’t flirt and expect him to pick up on it. Get some of those marshalling wands those airplane guide dudes use, and guide him right to your pussy,” Ashley said. And she laughed. Julee didn’t think it was so funny though, and she whined into the pillow. Ashley’s extra pillow. “Well fine, if you’re going to be a baby, go to your room.”

“No. I’m lonely.”

“Oh I get it. You want love.” Ashley snuggled her chest into Julee’s back, and squeezed her legs around her hips a bit.

“Not from you anymore! Meanie.” Julee squirmed a little more, but gave up a few seconds later. As per usual, girl gave up on anything after three seconds, even escaping Ashley’s advances.

“I don’t believe that.”

Ashley put a kiss on Julee’s ear, before her lips lowered to find her friend’s neck.

Friends with benefits. Neither of them had boyfriends yet, or had ever slept with a man. But they’d found each other when they came to university, and when Ashley had flirted with her a little, just for fun, she’d been surprised to find Julee receptive. University was a time for experimentation after all, and a little alcohol later, the two got naked and spent the night having sex.

And kept having sex. A lot. University had a way of destroying inhibitions. Something to do with all the alcohol probably. And the weed. And just being surrounded by horny young adults all the time. And it was easier than finding boyfriends, men they could get along with.

Ashley leaned her weight onto one elbow, and slid the other hand down Julee’s body. The brunette didn’t resist; never did. Much as Ashley was often the initiator, Julee was always ready to receive. She slid her hand under the waistband of her friend’s pants, down the crease of her lovely dancer’s butt, and down to the folds of her delicate little pussy.

Julee wriggled and squirmed, but only enough to give the pretense she didn’t want this. Ashley was a hornball, but Julee was like paper in front of a fire. Normally, perfectly calm, but the moment someone touched her with a flame, Julee was primed for major fucking. Any guy would be lucky to have her; a kiss on the neck and she was wet. Literally. Ashley’s fingers found just a hint of moisture budding in the entrance of her canal, and she’d been teasing her a total of one minute.

“God you are such a slut.”

“Not ... nice...” Julee’s voice melted into little murmurs, and her wriggling ceased. Which was Ashley’s signal to get off of her, and pull off her pants. Girl didn’t resist, not even a little. Not even as Ashley flipped her over, and grinned down at her.

“Legs all nice and smooth. Pussy too. Looking to jump Rick on the first date?”

“ ... maybe.”

Ha. Ashley got down on her elbows between her friend’s toned thighs, and leaned in to put a gentle kiss on her friend’s clit. Immediate mewls. Ah, Julee Julee, acting so sweet and shy and innocent all the time, and craving sex more than any guy she knew. Ashley blamed the internet and all the porn.

Chuckling, she started to plant tiny kisses on Julee’s swelling clitoris. But five seconds in, the door knocked, ruining what could have been an orgasm-filled morning.

“Yo, Ash! Come on, you’re going to be late.” Brad, yelling outside the apartment door.

“Shit, right. Coming! Twenty minutes!”

“What the fuck, twenty minutes?” he called. Yeah they were going to be late at this rate, fuckity fuck.

“Up up,” Ashley said, and hopped off the bed. “Got twenty minutes to get dressed.”

Julee sat up, and glared daggers at her. “Yooouuu bitch.”

Ashley sat down in the seat, and grinned her biggest jackass grin at the old fogy next to her. He had no business staring at her like she didn’t belong. She was dressed nice! It was a beautiful, strapless thing with poofy shoulders, black with black gloves, and tasteful cleavage. Probably just staring cause she was young; his wife stared at her the same way.

Julee sat down next to her, and Ashley leaned in to her friend.

“We’re surrounded by old farts.”

Julee giggled, and pushed her back into her seat. She was wearing a similar dress to Ashley, but she opted for white instead of black, and her dress went down to the heel while Ashley’s stopped at the knee. They were a matching set, as per usual. She liked that.

“Yeah well, I hear the Pale Lady likes to mix things up with her playing. Attracts the young and old.”

“Yeah.” Brad, looking delightful in his tux, leaned in over Julee to join the conversation. “I hope Chris was right.”

Brad’s boyfriend. The man had great musical taste, and he managed to find something most people could enjoy. But Ashley and Julee were different, they listened to music for more than just background noise. So, a little skepticism was warranted.

It was a damn nice place though, and Brad had the tickets, so it was a free nice place. The Grand Manorla Opera House! Fucking massive, with rows upon rows of seats, and a balcony, box seats, a fancy chandelier, and glorious, grand, red drapes. Drapes that would kill a man if you dropped them on him. The seats were so soft and lined with the same red color, and the railings between rows were colored ivory. And the stage, oh god the stage was massive. The red drapes were down, lined with ivory thread, and above were ivory dragons carved into the decor. So beautiful.

The building housed fifteen hundred people, and from the looks of it, every seat was full. Lot of talking going on, everyone some degree of excited or worried the show would be bad. No one had ever heard of the Pale Lady before a few weeks ago, when she’d suddenly started doing shows. No advertising though, just pure word of mouth that spread. And while Ashley and Julee weren’t really into classical music, they appreciated it, and a lot of their musical taste included music with a lot of depth and complexity. Just because it was played on a synthesizer instead of a cello didn’t mean it couldn’t have depth or beauty!

The lights started to dim. The crowd started to quiet. Ashley’s legs started to bounce. What would she sound like? What would she look like? Didn’t matter, so excited! Just visiting the Manorla was a treat.

The curtains parted, and the crowd went silent. A woman sat in the center of the stage upon an armless chair, a simple thing of wood and black cushion. The lights were dim except for a single one pointed at the musician from a distant corner, casting her shadow long behind her. The cello stood proud on the stage, and she held it by the neck with finesse. Ashley didn’t know what graceful looked like, until she saw the pale woman holding the monstrous instrument.

Whoever she was, she wore a black dress, sleeveless, with tiny straps over the shoulders. The skirt was long, very long, longer than her legs so it hid her feet. But it was the black veil over her head that had Ashley staring. It was see-through, and the light exposed the shape of her, the long hair that fell behind. White hair? It went well with her pale skin. Maybe she was very old? She was too far for Ashley to see her skin well, but she certainly didn’t seem old.

And she seemed ... majestic. She wasn’t doing anything, just sitting there and waiting, bow in her hand and still upon the strings of the cello. No sound, no movement, nothing. Pure, distilled silence. Ashley listened, straining her hearing as best she could, until the sound of people breathing around her, and the sound of her own heartbeat was apparent. Everyone in the room waited, doing the same thing she was doing, until she was sure some people started holding their breath in hopes to hear the Pale Lady do something. Anything.

At last, she started to play. Slow, quiet, a deep note that she dragged out for a long time, with a touch of waver. Like a crying mountain. The urge to start writing danced on Ashley’s fingers, but she’d have to wait until the show was done, then she could vomit words on the page until she had something worth sharing. Focus on the show for now. Another note, higher pitched, but still slow, shaking, a lamenting breeze.

The Pale Woman started to play faster. And louder. What were once quiet notes rose until the stirring and breathing of the audience was buried in the power of the instrument. Other instruments joined in, invisible until more lights joined the stage to expose the new musicians. A drummer, a bassist, a guitarist, and a keyboardist — definitely not a piano, as each note hit wasn’t the typical vibration of piano string, but the digital-yet-beautiful sound of a choir. And the bass and guitar were electric! Electric, with distortion, but it was the cello that lead them with a louder, heavier sound. It was her show, and everyone else was there to support her playing.

And play she did. What had started as gentle melodies and eventual loud melodies, evolved into a flurry of notes that grabbed Ashley’s ears, and pulled her into a skyward journey. The girl struggled to keep her eyes open; she wanted to close them so she could let the sound take her into the clouds in a rapid ascent before the turbulence and shredding notes spun her around. But she kept them open, desperate to see the motions, the way the Pale Lady almost banged her bow against the strings. The guitar was playing the classical melody, the cello was playing the shredding solo.

For an hour. Over an hour, the song went through movements, evolving the melody but keeping its structure. Key changes, time signature changes, tempo changes. For an hour, the Pale Lady and her four companions mixed classical music with metal with unique blends, with pinches of jazz, blues, and rock. But always it came back to the classical sound, controlled and dominated by the cello.

When it was over, the curtains came down, and the crowd roared with clapping. Not many cheers; such was the nature of the old and conservative. But when Ashley glanced their way, she could see they were smiling, nodding, looking at each other and chatting about the unique but enjoyable sound.

“Wow,” Julee said, “that was ... really good.”

“An hour is too short!” Ashley whined, threw her hands up, and collapsed into the seat. “I mean, I guess it was one song from beginning to end.”

“Yeah.” Brad nodded and got up from his chair. “I owe Chris. Come on, let’s get out of here, I want to tell him about the concert. And I got an essay to write.”

Bleh, no time to bask in the post-music bliss. Ashley nodded and got up along with Julee, and the three of them shuffled there way out into the isle.

“Excuse me.” A man came up to join them, an usher, dressed sharp and offering a warm, gentle smile. Guess he didn’t hate his job. “The Pale Lady noticed a few rather young faces in the audience, and she was hoping you could join the post-show reception.”

The two girls squealed and jumped up and down a few times, before they stopped, looked around at all the old people staring, and blushed.

“Fuck. I can’t,” Brad said, “gotta go. You girls cool taking a taxi home?”

“I am,” Ashley said. “Julee?”

Her friend nodded.

“Very good. If you’ll come with me.” The man bowed, and started walking toward the reception hall.

Night was getting better and better.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Ashley couldn’t stop fidgeting. Where to put her hands? Where do you normally put your hands!? She held them to her stomach, and squeezed on her fingertips, one at a time, as she watched the Pale Lady move down the isle. Still wearing her veil, but the lighting was strong enough to show her face through it, and expose the woman underneath as more than a silhouette.

She was beautiful. Ashley thought maybe she’d be the type to look great for her age, one of those sixty-year-old actors who still have smooth skin and great figures. How they did that, no one knew. Fountain of youth, deal with the devil, who knows. But the woman behind the veil looked to be in her thirties, despite her long white hair. Maybe she dyed it?

The Pale Lady did not do autographs. People tried to get them, but she smiled and shook her head as she walked past the rich and old, people dressed in all sorts of fancy clothes that had Ashley jealous. Not that she wanted to look like a plump old lady, but that she wanted to wear an expensive dress that looked like it came out of that Titanic movie, giant jewel necklace included. But the Pale Lady didn’t seem to care about the jewelry, the dresses, the men attached to the dresses, or any of that. She looked only at the faces as she passed by, looking through them as much as anything.

The isle was lined with black stanchions with white ropes, easily knocked over if someone wanted to. But the Pale Lady needed little in the way of security; a couple of guards at each end was plenty. There was a man too, someone wearing a trench coat and glasses walking behind her. Husband? He wore gloves, so if he had a ring Ashley couldn’t see it, and the Pale Lady didn’t wear a ring anyway. Who was he then?

“She’s so tall,” Julee said, leaning toward Ashley to put her lips against her ear.

“I know. And ... curvy.” Possessed by evil gremlins, her eyes wandered up and down the woman’s body. She hadn’t really noticed it from so far, and with the Pale Lady holding the cello in the way, but the woman was voluptuous. Like, really. How did a woman with a small waist have such wide hips, and such a massive rack? Ashley snorted on a chuckle, and Julee elbowed her in the side.

The Pale Lady grew closer, and closer, and Ashley and Julee stared up at her as she started to pass.

But then she stopped, and turned to look down at the two of them. Ashley’s mouth parted slowly, and her eyes stared through the veil at the beautiful woman. Luscious red lips, and ... red eyes?

“You two are quite young to enjoy such an event, non?” she said.

Talking. The Pale Lady was talking to them. A subtle French accent, and a subtle smile to go with it. Ashley had to say something back. Say something back!

Julee tried first. “I ... um ... we’re...”

“We were really moved!” Ashley said. Or squeaked. She had to speak up to get over the volume of the surprised crowd; everyone had leaned in to hear the Pale Lady speak.

“Y-Yeah! It had layers, but also, catchy riffs. Instead of just being snooty, it was emotional, and accessible, and ... and...” Julee blinked, and looked left and right. The crowd had gone quiet in seconds once she’d started talking. People were leaning in for more than just the Pale Lady, they were leaning in to hear the two young girls talk about the famous cellist’s music. Some had taken out notepads, and others had taken out cameras.

Their pictures would be in the paper! Quotes taken out of context!

Ashley’s palms started to sweat a bit, and she made her best fake smile.

“It was beautiful,” she said. Something nice and quotable, right?

The Pale Lady chuckled, and turned to face them completely. “It is rare to find the young interested in such music. Would you like to return with me to my suite? I would love to speak with ones of your age.”

“Back to your place?” Julee blinked, looked at Ashley, and gulped. “What do you think?” she said.

“I think hell yeah!”

She hadn’t expect the night to go like this, not at all. By now she expected to be back home with Julee, texting Brad about the show, maybe eating ice cream and watching some TV. Definitely giving Julee that orgasm she’d teased her friend with. Hell, maybe getting one herself.

She did not expect to be sitting inside a luxurious changing room, complete with those silly old mirrors with the light bulbs fitted to them, and a purse on the desk. The room had little else besides that, some cabinets, a fridge, and a couple of very, very comfy couches. No dresses though, or all the stuff a performer might need access to. Whoever this woman was, she didn’t like to expose herself or her wardrobe.

“I wonder what she wants to talk about?” Julee said. The two of them were on the couch, hip to hip, and rocking a bit with their anxiety.

“Guessing our lives and how they relate to her music. You gotta admit there weren’t many young people there.”

“Yeah but the old people looked like they were kind of surprised by the music too.”

Ashley nodded, got up, and started to pace, each step a little kick of the foot in front of her while she had her hands hooked behind her. The Pale Lady didn’t exist except for a few concerts. No CDs, no radio, no MP3s or whatnot to be found online, except for some shitty recordings from people who managed to sneak in some devices. What a weird combination of conspiracy and classic intrigue.

The door opened. Ashley squeaked and jumped onto the couch, put her hands on her knees, and beamed an awkward smile.

The Pale Lady came into the room, still wearing her veil, but alone this time. So tall and curvy, and the way she walked, so calculated and refined, so controlled and deliberate. Such a stereotype! The powerful, intelligent woman who controlled people’s desires with the sway of her hips, and their thoughts with the sound of her lips.

Ooh, she’d have to write that one down later.

Smiling at the two of them, the Pale Lady removed her veil and set it aside. Long white hair, not wrinkled or thin, came down to her hips, thick and wavy. Her skin was pale and her lips dark red. And she did have red eyes! Such fancy contact lenses. She looked like some sort of beautiful succubus with the red gaze, and she met Ashley’s blatant staring unwaveringly.

“Bonjour,” she said.

“H-Hello,” they said.

“Quite in sync you two are. Close friends?”

Ashley and Julee nodded, but only Ashley spoke up. “We are. And, uh ... we um ... we really liked the show, and—”

“Please, we need not speak of the music. I understand you enjoyed it, and your summary of why at the reception was fitting.” Nodding, the Pale Lady came and sat upon the couch that sat at an angle across from them.

Well, guess she didn’t want what Ashley figured she wanted then.

“Then, um ... what do you want to talk about?” Julee said.

“You two, of course.”

Ashley blinked several dozen times. “Us? But ... but we’re just a couple of university students.”

The Pale Lady smiled at them, and folded one leg over the other while one of her hands drifted down her leg. Ashley couldn’t help but follow the fingers with her eyes before forcing herself to look back up. The long skirt had some heft to it, and it molded to the woman’s legs enough for Ashley to see their curves a little as well.

“You two have a spark in you,” she said. “If I may ask, are you two artists?”

“We are, we are!” Ashley leaned forward and set her hands on her bouncing knees. “I write a lot, romance sorta stuff. Julee writes music, and paints. We also do dancing stuff, and sometimes gymnastics!”

“Delightful.” Her eyes scanned them up and down a few times, but they lingered on Julee for a little longer. One of her eyebrows raised inquisitively before the Pale Lady let her eyes drift with thought. “You two have passion.”

“Y-Yes,” Ashley said. She looked over at Julee too, but her friend was looking down, squirming. The Pale Lady’s look must have stirred something in her. “We both really like what we do. Julee’s trying to learn how to sing too. But she’s a quiet songbird, hasn’t found her wings yet.”

“Ashley!” Julee blushed and wriggled, like a worm on a hook. “I ... I uh...”

“Do not worry, Julee,” the Pale Lady said, “from one musician to another, I would not ask you to perform without planning for it. Such demands can be cruel, even from supportive friends.”

Oh damn, that was a really elegant way of calling Ashley mean.

“S-Sorry,” Ashley said.

Julee shook her head and smiled at her though, both of them. “It’s ok.”

“We may all be perhaps somewhat tense. Here.” The beautiful woman got up, and retrieved a bottle of wine from the cabinet. “To loosen our tongues and our legs.”

Ashley snorted on the laughter that jumped out of her. “Um, sure! But uh, you sure you want a couple of university students getting drunk? We have a tendency to ... I dunno, get rowdy.” Wow, no idea the Pale Lady could be this fun, or make jokes.

The Pale Lady smirked. “All the better.”

“Ok, ok.” Ashley leaned in toward the Pale Lady. Antoinette was her name apparently—French! So pretty. “Ok, I have a confession. This ... mmmay not be the first time I’ve been drunk ... this week.”

The three of them were sitting on the same couch now, Antoinette at one end, Julee at the other, Ashley in the middle. Even drunk, Julee was a quiet little butterfly, but at least she smiled a lot instead of being shy, more eye contact and more giggles.

“You are university students,” Antoinette said, “and artists as well. I expect some adventurousness from women your age.”

Adventurousness! Yes, awesome. “Yeah! Total adventurers. We do crazy things, like ... well, we came here!”

“Oui. Imagine my surprise that a few younger people were in my audience.” The beautiful, busty, gorgeous, crazy hot woman smiled down at them, and slipped an arm behind Ashley to set it on the couch’s back. Slick and suave.

“We do more than try out new things like this though!” Ashley took another long, long sip of her drink, and elbowed Julee almost hard enough for her friend to drop her glass. “Julee here poses for an art class! In some very skimpy clothing.”

“Shh ... you’re yelling.”

“I am not!” Maybe she was. “Julee and I both do gymnastics, so sometimes we’re asked to do poses. I got bored, but Julee, I think she likes it, everyone staring at her beautiful body.”

“Ashley!” Her friend frowned at her, but it faded quick as alcohol overpowered it with more smiles and giggling. Followed by more drinking of course.

“You two are delectable,” Antoinette said. “Your boyfriends must be quite enamored.”

“Psshaw. I’m single, Julee’s single. I mean we keep each other company in bed sometimes, but no boys in our lives yet. Ever. Sad!” She threw up her spare hand and lamented to the cruel universe. “We’re going to die virgins.”

“Ashley!” Like a parrot Julee was. “TMI.”

“It is ok, Julee. I find this all very endearing. And besides, you have had sex with each other, you are virgins no longer, despite what some may say.” Antoinette grinned down at the two of them, and dragged a finger along her lip in that slow, obviously seductive way. Wait, was she seducing them? God Ashley hoped she was. The Pale Lady was so fucking pretty. “And I am sure that, when you are ready and if you desire them, bountiful sex and fulfilling relationships with men will be yours.”

“Easy for you to say!” Ashley downed another glass, and started pouring another. The Pale Lady wasn’t having any though. Weird. “You’re so beautiful and curvy. You could have any man or woman right now if you wanted. And those boobs! Are ... are they real?” She leaned in, and stared at the enormous sweater-puppies filling Antoinette’s lovely dress. The tiny straps, lack of sleeves, formfitting bust, it all accented her breasts perfectly.

“Ashley! I think you’ve had enough.” Julee reached out for her drink, but missed, despite Ashley making no attempts to dodge.

“Me? Pffft you’re falling over in your seat.”

“You’re the one hitting on our host!”

“You’re the one—”

“Girls, girls, believe me, your honesty and joyfulness are a wonder and delight.” Her chuckles were sultry, and her gaze almost predatory. “But, yes, my breasts are real you silly imp.” The goddess lowered her gaze, eyes wandering, considering, before she looked back to the two girls. “Perhaps, you would like to confirm?”

“ ... w-what?” they said together.

“Would you like to see for yourself?” The gorgeous woman didn’t even blush with her words. Instead, the arm she had draped over the back of the couch slid down to find Ashley’s hair, and the curvy woman combed it with her fingers before her palm settled on Ashley’s shoulder. Touching her, the woman was touching her.

Ashley looked over at Julee. Her friend was staring at the two of them, dumbfounded. Good, it wasn’t just Ashley confused as fuck then. Confused, surprised, and very, very tempted.

“I uh ... I know I’m drunk, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

“Oh, you wish that I would not?”

“No! No no. God no.” She drank some more, set the glass down, and turned on the couch to stare whole body at the beautiful woman. Julee copied her, even leaned over her shoulder a bit to join in the staring. “Just ... d-didn’t think you’d be interested in a couple of girls like us. Or girls in general.”

“Quite interested. And quite hungry.” She licked her perfect lips, and turned to expose her back. “Please, unzip me.”

Ashley gulped, and reached out for the zipper. It moved out of the way and she missed. She tried again. It moved. Everything was moving, just a little, just enough to make it hard to aim her hands. Not her first time getting drunk, but it wasn’t just that. It was her pounding heart and her flush cheeks and panting breath and everything hitting her at once that was making it so very hard to concentrate. And that back, oh god the glorious back of the beautiful goddess. No bra; that’d clash with the perfect dress and its tiny straps.

She started to unzip it. Slowly, cause that’s about the only way she could do it steadily. But damn the zipper went down far, and far, until it passed the small of Antoinette’s back and exposed the waistband of what was, evidently, very pretty lace underwear, black.

The tall, voluptuous goddess stood up, took her shoulder straps into her hands, and pulled them down as she also leaned forward to let the dress fall from her torso. With her fingers, she pinched on the waist, and pulled it down over her hips, and further until the dress fell to her feet.

Both the young women on the couch watched her with wide eyes and dropped jaws as Antoinette stood there, naked but for her underwear that hugged her curvy figure so amazingly, Ashley could feel her body respond just staring at her. She was so tall, and the hourglass figure was almost inhuman.

The goddess turned around, and smiled down at the two girls. “Please, make room.”

Fucking god yes. Ashley slid over, and almost started to bounce as she waited for Antoinette to sit. She did, slowly, emphasizing each motion, making her long hair pour down her back, making her ridiculously huge, alabaster breasts hang beneath her for the moment she bent over slightly before her large, smooth butt hit the couch.

Ashley was so going to write some erotica about this, the moment she got home.

“It has been some time since I have enjoyed the touch of another.” Again she looked at them, red gaze and red lips devouring them. She said she was hungry, and she looked it. “Touch me, if you wish.”

Touch her if she wished? Fuck she wanted to. Yeap, going for it. Alcohol be my guide.

Ashley gulped again, and reached out for the naked goddess next to her. Her fingers found the woman’s breasts, and offered some gentle squeezing, including a little lift and nudge to see them jiggle a little. So fucking real. So fucking soft, and heavy, and fucking huge.

Chuckling, Antoinette hooked both her arms on the couch’s back, and smiled down at the two helplessly enamored women. Julee had reached out as well, and started caressing the woman’s nearest breast, just as awestruck. Drunk Julee was fun Julee.

“You two remind me of boys,” she said, devious and seductive smile never leaving, “to be so brazen, and captivated.” Ok, so it might have been a little objectifying, and maybe a little boyish to obsess over breasts like they were, but how could she not? “I feel embarrassed, being the only one so exposed. Come, undress for me.”