She wore clothes I wanted to fuck her in. The only thing left to the imagination was how hard she’d really would want it and how loud she could be. She wore all the other answers on her. Her nails were long enough to break the skin but not long enough to break off; so she liked a little pain. She loved her ass; so every thing she wore hugged it. She never got the chest she wanted but knew every trick to make up for it. When every girl else wore black boots she had red stilettos. She’d wink at me and tell me not to wait up and I couldn’t wait for her to pass out on the floor again.