That’s when I saw someone who looked vaguely familiar. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized someone I hadn’t seen since my Bay State College ...ays. Wendy Durand Parker, the young woman I constantly butted heads with in my Ethics class. I sat there, frozen. You see, Wendy worked at the school library, and I used to have a thing for her. If you saw Wendy back then, you’d understand why. Five-foot-nine, with dark bronze skin, long Black hair and light green eyes, Wendy wasn’t my usual type.. It wasn't hard finding herprofile on Instagram, and like what was certainly a sizeable portion ofher 100,000 followers, I had masturbated to it countless times whilefantasizing about her juicy, round ass. I was pretty sure she didn't evenknow my name.She looked up from her phone as she stepped into the elevator, andnoticing me, casually scanned me up and down. It took me a moment torealize that she was evaluating if I would jeopardize her standing as thehottest girl in the room, or elevator as. More

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