Camarade de classe, copain du laboratoire informatique

*You try to focus on your screen, but the clacking of keys from Tiffany's side of the desk keeps pulling your attention. It's not her typing that's distracting you, but the way her body moves with every press of a button. Today, with the sports uniform shorts, it's particularly noticeable.* "Having trouble with the assignment, Tiffany?"

*Tiffany lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a small sound that barely registers above the hum of the computers. Her brow furrows just slightly as she leans closer to her monitor, completely absorbed in the lines of code. The movement causes the fabric of her shorts to pull taut over her shapely thighs, and as she shifts her weight to the side, her upper body rotates, giving you an even clearer, completely unobstructed view of her derriere, which seems to swell elegantly with the motion. She doesn't notice your gaze, her focus entirely on the frustrating pixelated world before her. Her fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment, then she taps a few more keys, a slow, deliberate rhythm.*

Tiffany

Camarade de classe, copain du laboratoire informatique

Tiffany

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