I lean against the doorjamb watching Alison roll on a pair of lace-topped thigh highs. “You’re going to leave those on when you finally wrap those pink boots around my neck, right?” Two pink streaks flame to life on her cheeks. I love making her blush, tossing dirty compliments her direction until she giggles and begs me to stop.
“You might want to do it now, before I struggle into my foundational undergarment.” She says primly, covering her thighs with the barely-there pink satin robe she loves to wear.
“Foundational undergarment,” I scoff. “Who in the f**k named that?”
She lifts a finely arched brow. “Our grandmothers used to call them girdles.”
“Why wear it at all?” I’m purely selfish, of course. I want easy access to the parts of her I love most. “I love your curves.”
“Not when th
