Their teacher drew a ball from the kitten jar, and held it up for all to see: "Number 6! Glenda?"All eyes turned to Madam Class President. Eleven bott...ms quivered on their seats. Glenda was a one-pointer. She always knew the answer, and she was very beautiful, with her pale skin and ash blonde hair punctuated by storm-gray eyes. She was second oldest in the class by two months. Neither the tallest nor most developed, she was nevertheless statuesque through sheer carriage. She was serene rather. The small skein of dark red hair between her thighs glowed against her pale, lightly-freckled skin and her auburn curls hung halfway down her strong, curving back with its deep spinal groove. She tossed her head and one long tress slid over her shoulder and slowly unfurled to cover a dark-pink, upright nipple. She smiled in self-congratulation at that obviously-practiced gesture."What are you waiting for?" she asked standing before me, her deep navel and soft belly right in my face, her shift. More

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