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She looked at her watch as she got out of the taxi -- 3:12 p.m., over ten minutes late. Damn that New York traffic. He's such a hyper-sensitive, paranoid, demanding, perfectionist snob, he'll probably take it personally.

She tried to look into the window of the restaurant to see if he was already there, but it was so sunny out she could only see the reflection of the tight white button-down blouse she had finally settled on -- they had discussed her breasts so much online, she had to let him get at least a sense of what he'd been missing all these years, even though it was only going to be a quick friendly coffee and dessert together while he played temporary hooky from work. Damn that New York lawyer job of his. After a short debate, she decided one more button couldn't hurt anything. Let him have a little more cleavage, it's the least I could do for a miserable exhausted overworked sex-starved old friend.'

Then her eyes wandered down the window to the short plaid Catholic school girl skirt that she had bought just for the occasion. But until now she didn't realize it was THAT short - halfway up her thighs. She suddenly felt like an idiot. I can't believe I'm actually wearing this thing -- he'd better get a kick out of it. But the white lace panties, that's my own little secret he doesn't need to know. God Christy, you're such a good little prude -- what were you thinking?

...

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stories in "seduction"   |   all stories by "Addison K. Briggs"