Dirty Christmas
I lingered, heart pounding, debating.
Throw it out? Report it? But curiosity won. In the bathroom, I stripped and slipped into the teddy. The lace teased my nipples to peaks, the thong barely covering my pussy. Stockings slid up smooth. I threw my coat over it and headed to the rooftop bar across the street, snow flurries dancing in the air.
The bar was dimly lit, jazz playing softly. I spotted him at a corner booth. Mr. Reynolds, nursing a whiskey. Our eyes met, and he smiled, slow and knowing. 'Holly. You came. And I see you followed instructions.'