She saunters over, bends down and looks him in the eyes. Sister Isabella is wearing makeup! Kyle's heart is flopping in his chest like a fish flipped out of the water onto the bottom of a boat. He stares first into her mesmerizing eyes but his maleness magnet forces them down to take in how her red lips are shaping themselves to her words, how her hair drapes sensuously forward, and they tilt down further to her breasts straining and bulging under and around the confines of her clothes. Before he can scan down to regions lower still, her words reach his ears in the form of a question.