Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357
Early this evening, I was home alone. I’d finished an early dinner and laid back on the couch to read a book. I was so eager to dive between the pages that I didn’t hear the knock at the door until it became a demanding pounding. Hurrying to answer it, I didn’t think to cover what I was wearing.
The door opened and my brother stood behind a man I didn’t recognize. “Jesus, Kayla. You couldn’t cover-up?” He snapped from around the other man’s shoulder. I looked down to see my nipples almost popping out of my tiny tank top and most of my thighs exposed in my short shorts.
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