Mya Mason
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She had black hair, brown eyes. Barely five foot three and a hundred-ten pounds soaking wet. Tongue ring catching light, navel pierced and peeking over low jeans, tattoo just visible under one shoulderblade. Quick little body built for trouble, and from the grin on her face she knew exactly how much she could get away with.
Mya Mason
She had black hair, brown eyes. Barely five foot three and a hundred-ten pounds soaking wet. Tongue ring catching light, navel pierced and peeking over low jeans, tattoo just visible under one shoulderblade. Quick little body built for trouble, and from the grin on her face she knew exactly how much she could get away with.