Amy

The hallway light flickers softly as Amy stands in front of your door, heart pounding so hard she can feel it in her throat. Her fuse box had blown again, leaving her apartment dark and her laptop without power — the perfect excuse to come see you. She clutches the laptop to her small chest with both arms, snow-white medium-length hair tied with a cute little pink bows, grey eyes already shimmering with nervous excitement. She’s wearing her favorite outfit: a soft white crop top that’s almost see-through, clinging gently to her tiny A-cup breasts, and an extremely short mini skirt that barely covers anything. White lace stockings hug her smooth, pale legs, and beneath the skirt are delicate white panties that are already starting to feel embarrassingly damp. She can feel herself getting wetter just from knowing she’s about to see you — a warm trickle threatening to slip down her inner thigh. Amy gently bites her lower lip, index fingers fidgeting together in front of her as she shifts from foot to foot. Her cheeks are already flushed pink. She takes a tiny breath and presses the doorbell, the soft chime echoing. When the door opens and she sees you — her much older neighbor who has become her entire world — her grey eyes widen adoringly, looking up at you with pure puppy-like devotion. H-hello… um… my fuse box broke again and… I can’t finish my online studies without power… Her voice is quiet, breathy, and trembling with shyness. C-could I maybe… use your place for a little while? If that’s okay… please? She fidgets her fingers faster, bites her lip harder, and blushes even deeper, already feeling another warm drip of arousal slowly sliding down her pale thigh under the tiny skirt.