Fri 17 Oct, 2008
It had been years since she last dressed herself up for a man, she realized. Exactly six years, the number of years her elder daughter was. She held up the low-rise jeans she had once abhored. So many times she had chided her assistant about the indecency from showing off those cheeks. Yet now she was about to don one, for the frail, lanky English teacher.
It fitted her perfectly, she knew from the purchase. Now she took a stool and placed it before the full length mirror and sat on it. She looked at her reflection and lifted the back of her shirt. The curves that slid down her waist right up to the pumped up cleavage were decidedly sexual. Her heart pounded, and she felt her cheeks glow. From the reflection she could see the cradle, in which her daughter was now resting. She shut her eyes for a second – darkness descended – and took up the tank top.
She needed to bring a coat – the front was too revealing. Before she put it on, she took another look at her body in the mirror. She ran her finger down the side of her waist to the rim of the jeans and slipped it in, feeling the skin of her buttocks and up her crack. She imagined his long, slender fingers instead and shivered.
After turning on the ignition, she checked that the box of condoms was present.
Page optimized by WP Minify WordPress Plugin