“Hey there, Cherry Red.” Cris’s face held a coy smirk of her own for once as she closed the bathroom door, locking it behind her, and leaned aga...nst the counter. Red’s eyes followed Cris’s hands as she locked the door and to Cris’s surprise she actually seemed a little nervous, she had yet to look up into Cris’s eyes. She reached for the napkin dispenser without a word and instead of looking directly at her, Red made eye contact with Cris’s reflection in the mirror. I’m not playing these games. But wait; let me get back to reality here. Isabella sat across from me, wearing a black skirt. Not too long. Not too short. That skirt was just right. Beneath it, she wore a pair of black hosiery that complimented her athletic legs. I couldn't tell if they were stockings, or leggings, or pantyhose, but hey, I am a man, and none of that really matters. I still can't tell the difference between yoga pants and leggings. I just know how they frame an ass! Above the skirt she wore a red sweater with. More

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