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"She stood, catching her books as they nearly slipped from her arms, then turned and left my office closing the door behind her.I had risen from behind my desk as she was leaving the room and stepped around to stand next to her chair. I took in the faint aroma that lingered and smiled at the sweet scent. Then I noticed it. One of those ubiquitous black composition books was leaning against the left rear leg of the chair Annie had been occupying. I picked it up, saw her name and the word "PRIVATE" inscribed on the cover and was about to follow her and return it. Something, I don't quite know what, stopped me.I focused my attention on the notebook. It was worn and well-used, and from the condition of the page edges, quite obvious that it contained a good deal of writing. "Perhaps I can learn something of this girl," I thought to myself, walking to my office door to latch it securely against the event of her returning to look for it.I sat down on the sofa and made myself. Dressed in a micro-skirt and white shirt that was tied together under her bust but not buttoned at all, and high-heeled white leather thigh-high boots, she didn’t reveal anything except a generous cleavage. She oozed sex-appeal even so. She strutted back and forth for a while, moving her hips and letting her bust jump around. Every time she passed the dance-pole she took a hold of it with one hand and leaned backwards until her head touched the floor with a leg on either side of the pole and her crotch grinding against it. Her breasts almost escaped the shirt when she did this, but not quite. Daniel knew what the men watching were thinking: ‘maybe next time!’ Perpetually smiling and with eyes sparkling, the skirt hitched lower with every move of the hips until it fell to the floor and stopped her prancing. The white lace v-string covered the essentials but not much more. One of her hands came up to her mouth and her expression was a caricature of ‘oops, that was not meant to.
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