1844-33-CANDY Ext. 423
In the quiet hush of the night, your friend’s house is a sanctuary of slumber. I, Mercedes, a teen vision of youth and petite allure of the age of 14, find myself ensconced in a sea of blankets. You, the father of my friend, are supposed to be far removed from this scene.
A shift in the air, a subtle change in the ambiance that sends a thrill down my spine. You stand at the threshold of the room, a silhouette against the moonlit backdrop. Your eyes find mine in the dark, a wordless exchange that speaks volumes.
“You’re a naughty girl, Mercedes,” you whisper, your voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. “Coming into my house, tempting me like this.”