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Tip - tap. Tip - tap. Light strokes in a quick beat. Ultra high and glass-glossy heels like the New York skyscrapers during a zesty summer. Gracefully tapping as if stepping on men’s hearts instead of the dusty streets. Legs - smooth, fine, infinitely long. The kind that you wish to pick up along with the shoes and keep them sweating in your hands all night. The finale – a perfectly round booty wrapped in a tight patent skirt like a toy drum. Hair: sun –blondish, pulled backwards with firm hairpins. Slightly loose forelock falling on the side, pridefully hiding the eye under. Gosh, that look was devilish hot. 

“Hey, pussycat! Will pop those buttons off!" you could hear. A few car horns would follow. A naughty smile on her end. The boys went crazy. The girls were jealous. The clubs in Miami adored her.

The truth was Candice wasn’t a pussycat, but a sleek feline. The sleekest in town. Young and …let’s say playful, she made men gently purr in her endless legs. She wasn’t hiding how much she loved those nights – dark, short and naughty. No surprise – she hated being chased on the mornings after. And rightly so – this body was simply made for lovin.

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