Standing up, she smooths her skirt over her thighs. It's black, like the satin corset, and flares out when she twirls, which always makes her smile. Checking the time, she slips on her short leather jacket and grabs her bag off her bed. The knot of excitement in her stomach tightens a little more as she gives the room a final once over, picks up her keys and locks the door behind her.
The streets are dark, the orange glow of the street lamps giving the world an unreal feeling, reflecting off the wet tarmac and cars. Thankfully it is no longer raining as she strides towards her destination. A wolf whistle bolsters her confidence, much as she knows she's supposed to be offended by such things, and she begins to notice how the men she passes in the street stare just a little longer than norm
