Va-11 Hall-a Jill Novels & Stories

Giving her a plastic smile, I reached my hand forward for a handshake. "Yeah, I'm Kourtney Devaraux," I smugly introduced, as she reached for my hand. "And you are?" "Jill. Jillian Moore," she introduced as we both stared at each other's eyes. "I like your name," I said sarcastically and pulled away from the handshake. "Do you happen to know which direction would lead me to senior History class?" "I'll show you." She beckoned me to come with her as I reluctantly complied. We strolled along the hallway and I was trailing behind her. Her other friend with dark skin, buzz-cut hair, and plump lips stood beside me. His eyes were completely drawn to me as if to make me feel uncomfortable.

The sight that greeted him there was somewhat unexpected. Sure enough, the dark suited goon was there, but he was not alone. Hanson’s partner, Jill Morgan stood in front of the man. Jill was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white satin bra, the t-shirt she had put on earlier was now on the kitchen table. The goon had placed his gun on the counter beside him and had both hands on Jill’s ample chest, squeezing her big tits eagerly through her bra as she was reaching behind her back to unfasten the piece of lingerie.