“I mean, you don’t seem like much of a gamer.”“Oh yeah, I am one,” Morgan replied, cool as a cucumber, looking off at some shelf. “…Not....I’m not one. I don’t know why I said that. I’m here to pick up something for my brother.”“Oh, well, if he’s a gamer, you’re in the right place,” I replied. “Because, y’know, we sell games here.”“That’s probably why they call it Gamestop,” Morgan replied quietly, still staring off at the shelf. Why was she not looking at me? Was she seriously still upset at. You’re still nowhere to be seen, but I feel your hungry gaze upon me. Imagination, perhaps, but it feels very real. It’s no longer him I’m dancing for, it’s you. Just that realization makes me wet. I can feel the seam of my skin tight jeans pushing the thin cotton of my panties between my outer lips, knowing that if I was to take off my pants, there’d be a tell tale dark strip. I’m damp. Moist might be more appropriate. It’s not helping that I feel his hands caressing my hips. My tight cotton. More

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