"Uh – yeah. The dean wants to see you, I guess."Ms. Christensen took my arm."Come Tyballa. I'll show you the way."The dean's hall was down a passage...and around a corner, and it seemed small for someone of her evident rank. A stout desk sat in the center with unbound papers scattered across its surface. Facing the desk were two ornate wooden chairs upholstered with luxurious red velvet. Against one wall were two bookcases with many, many books, more than a library might have.Behind her desk, the. There wasn't much to it. I always admired her figure, and she didn't hesitate to show it. Mom didn't like it when she did. Her breasts overflowed the top, but when she saw me, she winked at me."Becky, oh my, have we grown up. You have inherited your dad's mother's bust, and that suit bottom is a thriller showing your cute backside. Your mother would die if she ever saw you in that." I am glad you like it, Aunt Holly." Becky, just call me Holly without the aunt thing." I would like that." What. More

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