Clark spun around to see what had happened. Seeing that it was just a bit of spilt milk, she began to walk towards the closet to retrieve the mop. "No..., Mrs. C., don't use that. Use this," Greg quickly replied holding up a dish towel he had conveniently placed on the table next to the milk.Without even thinking about it, Mrs. Clark changed directions and walked over to the table to take the cloth from Greg's outstretched hands. If she hadn't had such a sleepless night last night, because her. I know I look better than that!'The sun was finally setting and people were leaving. She was once again left behind. She lay for a while longer, playing with the fire in her mind to keep her warm, forming an invisible wall of heat to warm the breeze that constantly whipped around her.It was nearly dark when she noticed a small group of teens gathered further up the beach. More than a few knew she was lying there in the sand. There were mixed feelings coming from the group – some upset and a lot. Now I may have been rather childish in looks but I was not green, obviously relishing the sex talk that prevailed in the discussions of girls my age and like my friends I soon discovered the pleasure of working on my clitoris. I would lay on my bed, naked, legs wide apart with a mirror propped up so that I could watch the transformation of the gristly pleasure button as it swelled to triple its normal size, laying back to let the strange but lovely sensations creep over my flesh as I worked it,. She’d tied it partially into a ponytail which hung from halfway up the back of her head to just past her shoulder blades. The rest was brushed forward over her bared clavicles. A pair of long, thick tresses framed her forehead, flowing back towards her ears to join the curls to each side of her head.Gone were the glasses which she wore like a shield every day at school. Her eyes were lightly brushed with a dark eyeliner that extended slightly past the corners with a subtle upward curve..