The Dice Game
“I wish I wasn’t so stressed,” she said. She had already said it multiple times that night. I could understand why; finals were coming right up. Tomorrow was her French exam, and I was helping her cram as her part-time “tutor”. It’s something I did completely for free, save for some free beer she always seemed to have on hand; I was always a sucker for pretty women. Jillian, the girl I was tutoring, is a fourth-year student in her last semester of university (a year higher than I). She was of both Irish and Chinese heritage; she had an Asian face and body-type as she was quite skinny. Her breasts were the kind that some people would describe as “smaller but more natural”-looking. They weren’t tiny, but they weren’t anywhere near huge. When taking her tiny frame into consideration however, it really came into proportion. She had a nice body. Her Irish blood was evident in her red hair, which ran straight down just past her shoulders. Her skin was also very fair, although I don’t know if that’s either from her Irish genetics or the odd Chinese compulsion to keep skin as white as possible. Personally I think it’s (and hope for) the formal, I could always be wrong. ...