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"After tonight? What do you m-"

Anon stopped himself short. It was more like the suddenness of her movement, smooth and

unpausing as it was, when she backed away from him, still sitting on her knees, as she

pulled his shirt, the Donkey Kong T-shirt she was wearing, up. The flash of her panties

visible at the sides of her blossomed, dark thighs yielded to the cleft of her hips, a trim

hourglass shape. Up past her navel, to the powder-blue bra she wore, and easily off and over

her head.

Gamer-tan paused for a moment, holding the shirt over her head, stretching her small bra a

little as it shifted across her chest.

"Oh my God, Anonymous, I -" she started, a brief stutter present in her voice, her pose

frozen - shirt held above her head, gripped tightly in her hands, vise-like into small

fists. "I don't really know what to do, but I -"

Anon shifted around, coming onto his knees to face closer to her. "Look..." he said, his

voice a quiet, determined low tone. "I probably should tell you that you don't have to do

this if you don't want to, but..."

"B-but?" Her eyes were glistening, a mix of tears and tension.

"But... Jesus, but you're so..."

Anonymous reached over Gamer-tan's head, taking her hands through the thick black cotton of

his shirt that she was wearing only moments ago, still damp from the rain and the slight

glisten of sweat across her almost-bare torso.