She adjusted the lacy top of her stockings making neat lines of the garters, fidgeting with the elastic, bending to straighten the seam at her toes. He had called from the cab, he was minutes away. He’d check in, carry his own bags, too modest to follow a cheery bellhop, and he’d knock, despite having…
Souvenir
“I’m a man of science, Gale. My mind thrives on empirical truths and patterns.” His thumbs dug into my thighs as he stood between my knees, the polished wood of his desk warming against my skin through my stockings. Fishnets, as requested. We’d been talking, dancing this dance, touching for nearly an hour, the penultimate…