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These girls are the absolute cream of the crop — the skinniest, flirtiest foxes in the shortest, sluttiest outfits. You obsessed over them in college, and you want them even more now. My train pulled into Atlantic-Barclays at 11pm, and a flood of top-notch teen temptresses poured on board. They had tiny short skirts and bright green XXS “Brat†T-shirts, clinging to their mouth-wateringly juicy curves. Mirror jackets, halter tops, fishnets, see-thru, all of it. Their legs were long, bare, and perfectly sculpted by high heel boots and pumps; their exquisite faces rocking model-quality makeup, teased and styled hair, and jangle jewelry to attract attention. And above and beyond all that, they were just SO alive and vibrant with young, sensual, dynamic energy. Time slowed down and I luxuriated in the center of this throng of angels; smelling their perfume, hearing their high-pitched voices talk Gen Alpha slang, and staring at all my fantasies, writ large. God bless America. (Looks inspired by the king of teen sleaze, Max Hardcore, and his sartorial successor, Bryan Gozzling)