Cher, by Rebekah Michele

She lay, sprawled beneath me, in her office chair. Slight smile on her lips, body open … come and play, it said. I didn’t look down to see if her legs were spread. This is what the boss saw when looking down at her. This is what her husband saw. Even I wanted to get down on my knees for her. This small woman knew, and she wanted me to know, no matter how young and pretty and brown I was, she would always be more. Offer more, and they would always fall on their knees before her tiny frame.

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