“I thought girls always wore their shirts.”“Don’t look over their, Suzie.” Was the reply. “She’s a bad girl....Good girls always were shirts. She’s a floozy.” After just a minute or two, Nichole came back to her senses and ran back into the bathroom. Leigh was their waiting, holding Nichole’s jacket draped on one finger, smiling. “Thought you’d come back for this doll, but I’m not sure why though. Without its buttons it. When my dong pulsed against her tummy, she chuckled again. Christ, I love that chuckle.After one more dance, during which she would run her tongue lightly into my ear, and my hand started edging down to her butt, she leaned back and breathed "I'm no wallflower, Brad. I'm OV, hot for your bod, and I hope you don't think I do this all the time, but that isn't gonna stop me. Let's go check on Tricia, then go to your room." I, of course, played coy by almost running to the elevator, pulling her. He comes back into the room and hands me a prescription for pills. Theyare birth control pills. I can't take them, I am a strict Catholic. I goto a Catholic high school. I can't take birth control pills. The doctorexplains there are only three ways to cure this pain. I could take thesepills. I could get pregnant or I could have a hysterectomy. Those are myonly options. He also told me that the pain will get worse as I getolder. I don't know what to do. I want to have children some. Her clothing were of the sort that tended to flatten out a prim lady's curves, yet even under that exterior it was not difficult to make out the lovely shape of her ass and the hint of the globes on her chest. What I particularly liked about her was that she always wore high heels, normally black opera pumps.But her slender, tapered pianist's fingers, moving as cleverly as they did across the keyboard over which she was mistress, were what was most seductive about her, and when we first shook.