Matt
I was hit with a sudden rush of excitement when the notification lit up my phone screen: a new picture message.
Sliding onto one of the locker room benches, I opened it. My breath hitched at the sight, a tantalizing closeup of a woman's cleavage. It was enough to send my pulse racing, a lump forming in my throat.
I went to zoom out, but there was nothing else there. Just cleavage. I could just barely make out a collarbone on the upper left side of the screen, but nothing more. Not even a lock of hair.
“Why the mystery?” I muttered to myself, feeling a twinge of frustration.
A part of me craved to see more, to uncover the enigma behind the mask. But another part of me also reveled in the mystery, in the secret thrill of the chase.
This girl was mysterious, an
