I know you want to pretend we’re the Spice Girls, but it just won’t work. For a start, you’d be Scary Spice, and you’re the least frightening ...f all of us. I still remember how you screamed when I showed you my pet spider.”“That was twenty-five years ago!”“But you’re still scared of spiders.”“Yes, because some bitch put her tarantula on my head when I was five! Anyway, Mel B wasn’t really scary, she was just black, we could come up with a less racist nickname. Spank-Me Spice, maybe?”“It’s. That's what my brain was doing. A small part of it wanted to know, "Heard from who? Talk to about what?" The rest of it was scanning every pixel of the picture in front of me. A last small part of it was willing my cock not to rip through my jeans.She was my age, plus or minus a year. Copper red hair that hung to her belt. Right now that hair was loose with some of it hanging down her front over her left breast and the rest down her back. She was a little taller than I was, maybe an inch at. More

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