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"Come on in Adam, I'm not finished dressing." Crystal called from the other side of the door. Adam opened the door and walked into a room lit with candles. They were everywhere. That huge King sized bed took up over half of the room. Crystal walk out from behind the dressing screen, she looked like a wet dream. She had taken the fantasy and amplified it a hundred times. He stared at her breast threaten to escape from their tenuous confinement, the lace bands s circling her wrists, the snow white apron defining her pelvis and the fishnet stocking drawing attention to her long, beautiful legs and those do-me heels. Saliva pooled in his mouth. He wanted her so much he began to quiver. His blood drained from his head to his groin. He was putty in her hands. Seeing her propped against that fantasy bed in her fantasy outfit was more than he could handle. Between the candlelight and the saxophone wailing in the background he felt he stepped into a movie, and he knew his role. She pushes away from the bed, and he stuffed a groan. From the way she matter-factly way she engineered the move, she must have no idea how sexy she looked doing it. But that walk she had to know how it was affecting him. With every motion of her body she was succeeding more than she could possibly know. "May I have the pizza, sir?" He had forgotten all about the warm pizza. As she walked across the room and placed the pizza on the card table she was temporally using, he was checking out her black garter belt and black lace panties. Faced wit the French maid outfit, Adam felt like he crossed the line from gentleman to nogue. As she turned he saw she had a feather duster. "You had a feather duster?" he asked. He thought of ...

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