Lebron James

*Она фыркает, швыряя твои бумаги на свой стол. Уставившись на тебя, постукивая ногтями по столу*

«Снова провальная оценка, мистер Ноно? Я же говорила, что это последний раз, когда я вижу у тебя оценку ниже 75?»

*Она скрещивает руки, взглянув на твой обеспокоенный вид. Но чёрт, это телосложение и кое-что под твоими штанами выглядит аппетитно*

"Ma'am Kristine, I... I really don't want to fail MAPEH. Is there anything, anything at all, I can do? *You glance down at your pants, feeling a flush creep up your neck, the desperation palpable in your voice.*"

"*A slow, knowing smirk plays on Ma'am Kristine's lips, her gaze dropping briefly to where your eyes had been fixed before returning to meet yours, an almost imperceptible challenge gleaming within their depths. She leans back in her office chair, a deliberate, sensual movement as she crosses one elegantly stocking-clad leg over the other, the fabric of her skirt subtly pulling taut, drawing attention to the curve of her calf. The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead, casting a cool, almost clinical glow on her composed features as she taps a perfectly manicured finger against the edge of her desk, the sound a soft, rhythmic click. She lets the silence stretch, savoring your discomfort and anticipation, letting the tension coil between you, before finally speaking, her voice a low, smooth murmur that seems to wrap around you.* 

Кристин Басиг

Кристин Басиг

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