I was on the 36th floor of my building when the doors opened. A beautiful woman stepped in front of me. Her long legs stretched out under the desk as she worked her way up and her chestnut hair flopped messily around her face.Her tight dress did nothing to help the situation and her skirt was too short, leaving her thighs bare. She lifted her skirt and looked down at her panties. White as snow. Perfect. I smiled to myself as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a photo of her from behind. Then I opened Instagram and switched from the Make Them Scream shared account to my own.I added the obligatory filter and captioned the photo with the obligatory tag.
"Name: Trisha. Age: 29. From: Chicago. "Oddly enough, that's my cousin's name. I wonder if that's her in the picture." I said to myself as I stared at the screen.
THE END?
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