You responded. I got up, walked over. You waited, predator or prey? I didn’t care. We spoke a little, my smile never leaving my face, your interest ...iqued all the while. We kept the conversation superficial: books, magazines, spirituality. I could tell you were married, settled, enduring a slight ennui with the passing years. I just wanted to tear through it, release your inner daemon, feel you break in my clutches. But I held off, showered you with compliments, straining not to touch you. I shifted my crossed leg further, seeing if I could flash even more. My smooth bare thigh felt cool and exposed. Time for stage two. I nonchalantly uncrossed my legs, and let them rest slightly apart, with my skirt riding quite high up my legs. From practicing in my room, I knew that anyone looking up between my legs would be able to see quite far up my skirt, but that the ultimate prize would still be hidden: for the moment. I oh-so-carelessly spread my legs a little further…my skirt slipping. More

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