She placed a podgy hand on her friend’s bulging thigh and Tracey smiled. “Wait till after school!” she whispered partly as a promise and partly...to advise patience. Fanny looked back at Qafira. She looked so very prim and restrained in her dress: a long dress that trailed down to below her knees. A blouse so loose and buttoned so high that it was difficult to be sure that she had a bosom at all. Hardly any flesh on display from her neck to her chest. Or from her ankles to her crotch. Perhaps. "How long's she been here?" asked a man.Something touched my cheek, started moving along it with tiny feet. Ineeded to brush it away, but my hand just trembled again. Fireworksexploded across my vision, I tasted iron and somebody made a grimgroaning noise. I trembled, then my muscles started firing randomly, myheels drummed the ground and pain seared up from an ankle. As my headthudded and my hands cramped into claws a hot wash spread between mythighs."Don't touch her," the woman shouted. More

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