Chapter 1: Don't Call Me Kitten
It was insufferable that Leticia knew when I was horny. She didn't always comment, not aloud, but she teased me even so. It was like she had a sixth sense for my arousal. When she smelled it on me, when we passed each other in the hall, she'd casually turn her head and offer what she called her best "lesbo smirk." I usually scowled back at her and said nothing (though my cheeks burned like two guilty roses).
The most recent indignity occurred while I was getting my mail. I looked up and she was opening her own mailbox, not even looking at me but with that stupid smirk on her little lips. They were soft and pink, too cute for the cruel eyes that glinted beneath her faded blue hair. "How's it going?" she asked, in a tone that knew exactly how it was going.
