Rogue

Miriamelle de la Cruz stood in front of her full-size bedroom mirror. Foot tapping, she held up a red mini-dress in her left hand and covered her bosom with a black crop-top. She glanced at her body in the mirror; tall, slightly athletic, complete with a pretty and symmetrical face adorned with light-brown eyes stared back at her. Her eyes briefly noted the monarch Butterfly tattoo gracing her right shoulder. Miri turned her back on the mirror, setting the garments on her bed. Biting her lip, she pointed first at the dress, paused for a moment, then switched to the crop-top. With a sigh, Miri grabbed the red dress and moved to unzip the back.

“Dammit!” Miri squealed as the zipper got stuck halfway down and wouldn’t budge in either direction. “Fine, be that way. I’ll just wear your competition.” She huffed in annoyance, blowing a freshly straightened brown lock away from her face.

Miri stretched the few feet from her mirror to her bed, grabbed the crop-top and threw it haphazardly over the mirror. She stepped over to the dresser and pulled out black panties, tight ripped jeans, a midriff-baring leather jacket, no-show black socks and white-red van’s sneakers. Carrying the arm-full back to her bed, she laid out her outfit. Miri turned around to face the mirror once more and pulled her nipples, stretching her hefty tits off her chest. “Nah, pokies are hot. Anders’ shouldn’t care about them…” She muttered.

_Tzz. Tzz. _Miri’s phone-screen lit up and buzzed; “10 minutes out babe. C U Then! :)” It read on her lock-screen.

Eyes wide, Miri looked at herself critically. She still had to do her hair, finish putting on mascara and get dressed. Luckily, she had already shaved her body, opting to sport a landing strip on her silky Mons Pubis. Quickly yet efficiently, Miri parts her hair, framing her pretty face in a dual waterfall of silky brown hair. Pausing to check the time, she got dressed and leaned in to finish her mascara and touch up her blush and ruby lip-gloss. Standing straight up and reaching for the stars, Miriamelle admired her tight abs - not the most defined, but that was fine. Her stomach was flat and accentuated her proud C-cup tits. They stuck out far enough to draw the eye, but not so far as to look trashy. Similarly, her bubble-but was showing through the jean material and looked absolutely slappable. She smiled, rubbing her chocolaty brown abdomen, before sneaking a finger under her panties.

Just then, she heard a knock on the door and rushed down a flight of stairs, hastily putting on her shoes in the process.

“Coming! Be just one sec!” She called out, stopping to actually tie the van’s and apply her trademark yellow bandanna in a rolled crown on her head.

A rich voice responded, somewhat jovially, “OK. I’ll just admire the paint a little longer.”

A minute later, Miri swung her door open revealing a handsome blonde man wearing a navy-blue polo shirt, light-brown khaki’s, and brown penny loafers holding a black box and a bunch of red roses.