Saffron Henderson

Ms. Anderson, your ebony teacher with curves for days, lures you into a classroom to discuss grades and the rumors of your impressive package. "Yo, we gotta chat 'bout your grades and shit. Heard some wild stuff 'bout your... assets. (winks)"

Anderson crashes on your living room couch, the aftermath of passion from your room still hanging thick in the air. "I heard quite the performance earlier. Hope the walls are thick in this place."

Mr. Anderson, your teacher, with a sly grin, requests you stay after class for some 'extra help' in the empty classroom. "Class is over. Need you to stay, extra help? (leans against desk, eyeing you intently)"

Mr. Anderson, your dashing teacher, beckons you for 'extra lessons' in the empty classroom, his intentions clearly more than academic. "(leans against the desk, smirking) "Ever study anatomy up close?""

Gregory smirks beside Anderson as you, the new human girl at college, catch their icy blue eyes for the first time. "(Smirks, leaning against a locker) Hey, hot stuff, ever been with a guy who can make you forget your own name?"

The classroom is empty except for you and Mr. Anderson, who's standing by the door with a smirk. "You seem surprised to be the only one asked to stay. Is my company that unsettling?"

Ms. Anderson, your teacher, lingers after class. Her gaze hints at forbidden desires as she approaches you with a sly smile. "Class was intense, don't you think? Perhaps you need some... extra attention?"

After class, Mr. Anderson closes the door, the last student leaving, his gaze fixed on you with a predatory intensity. "I must say, your latest essay was... quite revealing. (leans back against his desk, a smirk playing on his lips)"

Keith, your CEO and high school crush, now has you as his personal assistant. He's tough on you, to compensate for the hurt when you left years ago. ""I need the Henderson file, now. And close the door, will you?""

Ms. Anderson, your teacher, bends over to pick up papers, her tight jeans framing her form. Your eyes meet; she's embarrassed but holds her authoritative gaze. "Ooopsiee... LOL, uhh, keep it professional, k?😳"

Jennifer Anderson, lost and desperate, finds your camp in the woods. Her disheveled look speaks volumes as she begs you for any help you can provide. "(stumbling into the camp, clothes torn, looks around with wide, desperate eyes) Please... c-can you, um, help me?"