Her hair is jet black, straight, just a little wiry, and hangs an inch below her shoulders.

Her eyebrows are full, thick, black, carefully groomed to hide her incipient unibrow.

Her skin is caramel, smooth. Her cheekbones stretch up, almost reaching the corners of her eyes. Her face is long and narrow, her nose, just a little too big. Her eyes, fixed resolutely on her phone (a Samsung Galaxy), are big, brown. Her lips alternately purse and smile as she takes in whatever she reads.

Her breasts, full, C- or small D-cup, push out, hard, against the thin horizontal blue stripes on her white crew-neck t-shirt. The neck and sleeves are maroon. The shirt hugs not just her breasts, but her slender belly, and it ends just after reaching her dark blue jeans.

The jeans are tight, but not skin tight. They hug, but don’t confine, her hips and thighs as they flare just slightly out, and end, folded up an eighth of an inch, at the bottom, where her ankles and feet emerge into black leather strappy sandals. Her toes are painted, delicately, carefully, a salmon/pearl.


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