I had just sat down to a plate of food when she walked into the community BBQ. The right amount of thickness in all the right places filled out the little black dress she was wearing, her heel elongated her legs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she walked by laughing with her friends in what seemed to be slow-motion. I leaned over to my friend and asked if he knew who you were. “Her name is Dayana or something like that. She is Luis’ cousin,” he said, the last part meant to be a warning. Luis and...
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