Dance with the Devil
It was morning in Manhattan, and Max Ridley was an incorrigible tease. The lithe, almost-eighteen brunette bit her full(but not puffy), M-shaped lips and smiled naughtily as she looked at the reflection of her nude figure in the mirror. With the exception of a few stretch marks around her thighs from her growth spurt a few years ago, her light, but not pale skin was otherwise perfect. She ran her hand through her head-framing, lopsided bob and brushed aside the difficult lock that always...
Fantasy