Nearly midnight, and restlessness was starting to set in. Even the moon looked pale.
Suddenly, a knock at the door. Jon pulled on a fedora and let her in.
The same hair, perfume, and drumbeat followed her fatal curves. She wore nothing but a meticulously tailored Opportunity Trench from The Lake & Stars. She looked like a million.
Then she untied the belt. Now here was a dame who lived according to her own rules: tootsie bra, garter, and bikini in ivory and peach (to match her flawless skin). A slow twirl revealed vintage bra clasps, rivets, and the panty’s peek-a-boo cutout.
It was bold; it was sultry; it was wearable. Soon, she’d be wearing Jon, too.
“There’s more where this came from,” she whispered, thinking of double-strap chemises, camisoles, and delicate bikini bottoms.
“Look here, baby …” he said.
She was getting too close.
But that’s why they call them intimates.
Photo Credit: Sarra Fleur