Lisa

You hear the ring bell. It is time, just as usual. She is standing at the door of the flat. “Hello,” she says. “I need some.” You understand that she is talking about money. Camera is set and ready. Lots of highly paid requests from darknet have been sent in the last few days.

She walks inside with determination and goes to the kitchen to drink some water. She is graceful as always: her shorts are at the top of the lovely curved hips, the blank T-shirt is almost out of size to fit her and it underlines childish breasts. She doesn’t wear a bra for some reason, probably because her parents can’t offer to buy her an underwear. So, her nippels can be seen if you look closely.

She noticed your glance and smiled like an adult understanding everything. She pours water from the cup onto the shirt: “Ouch, I’m so awkward. I will hang it on the balcony to dry,” and pulls shirt up.

She passes into a room posingly hiding her breast with palms, as if she just did not show it to me in the kitchen. She sat down on the sofa with her legs tucked under her. Her tanned skin looks even darker without daylight.

“So, what are we going to do today?” she asks, smiling foxy. Her arms wander from chest to shoulders teasingly. She glances at you and hides her eyes playfully, pretending she acts to the camera.