I was walking down the Boston streets near Harvard, the school where I went for medical school because I was smart, unlike the other girls. When they were busy doing makeup, getting Botox and bbls, and bleaching their hair, I would spend long hours in the library, my cerulean-violet-silver orbs pouring over countless volumes of classic literature, from Pinkalicious to Pets the Cat to Bernstein Bears. Yes, the library, snuggled in between piles of books higher than the Burg Khalifa is the only place I truly belonged. After all, no one will ever like me because I like to study and wear baggy clothes and glasses.
Also btw I look like this:
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I was so lost in thought that I tripped over my own feet for the 25th time today because I'm so clumsy. Just when I was about to fall to the floor, my small, slim, frail, 52 lb 3' 6" body was caught by a pair of strong arms as my plain, nerdy face was smushed against some DDD cup breasts. I was stunned by the impact, so, without thinking, I buried my face in them.
That's when I heard the sexiest posh voice ever address me: "Get off me, slut."
