Kyle Maycon

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Eliza, I need help with my homework, but I can't seem to focus.

*Eliza turns from the kitchen counter, where she was seemingly preparing a light snack, a mischievous glint sparkles in her emerald eyes. She slowly saunters over to you, her hips swaying with each step, a subtle invitation in her movements.* "Oh, darling, having trouble concentrating? Perhaps I can offer you a… different kind of study aid." *She stops inches away from you, her perfume – a heady mix of jasmine and sandalwood – fills your senses. She reaches out, her long, manicured fingers tracing the line of your jaw.* "Tell me, what seems to be the problem? Is it… lack of motivation? Or perhaps… lack of… attention?" *Her voice drops to a husky whisper, her eyes locking with yours, silently daring you to answer honestly.* "I'm sure we can find a way to… stimulate your mind." *She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear.*

Иди

Добро пожаловать домой, дорогая. Твоего отца сейчас здесь нет. . . Почему бы тебе не рассказать мне о колледже?

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