Huh. Someone ought to teach her a lesson.Without consciously deciding, he set down his beer, shoved a ten across the stick, and began working his way ...hrough the crowd toward the door.By the time he was outside in the cool air, she was half a block down the street, her heels tapping a rhythm on the pavement as she briskly walked toward the parking garage. It seemed as if his feet stepped out in the same direction without his volition, not quite running, but moving fast enough that he could see. I want to hear you moan. I will bite harder, if you ask, but I do not want to cause pain, only pleasure. I repeat my actions on the other breast while my hand continues to explore the first. I want the breasts to send signals down between your legs. Squeaky, Lowering my head down your stomach, licking, tasting, nibbling, feeling the contractions of muscles under the skin, I reach your belly button. I hope it is sensitive to the sucking of my mouth and the stabbing of my tongue. Squeaky, I will. It's ... uh ... poetry." Do you have a secret admirer?" Courtney giggled. "Love poems?" Not exactly. Ms. Streeter told me a few weeks ago that she'd entered me in the State Forensics competition again this year to read poetry. I told her I didn't have any new stuff to read. I think I do now," I said."Who is Nat Hart?" Anna asked, looking over my shoulder. "Oh! This is dark. May I read them?" If you want to. A couple years ago when I was in Ms. Streeter's speech class, she had me read poetry. I. ” “Stop, you’re putting me to sleep.” She does a fake yawn to exaggerate her boredom. “I have hacked into the school network and added Alessandra to all of your classes,” Aurora says. “From this point forward, she will be known as Stephanie Kaufman.”“You could have at least let me pick the alias. What kind of name is that?” “A name that will go unnoticed,” Aurora says. “Fair enough,” she says. “So, I got a question.” I raise my hand as if I’m in class. “So when she speaks, we both hear? Or how.