Fastening the garter to the top of the black stocking–she could only do the front…the back always eluded her–she called out in the general direction of the bedroom door, “Honey?”

“What?” the response came from somewhere close, probably the hallway.

“I need you to help me with my garters; I can’t get the damn things to clasp in the back.”

He walked in, shirtless and “just-woke-up” disheveled.  She stood up, turned around, and looked back at him expectantly.

His lip curled up into a half smile, devious…and his eyes fixed her where she stood.  He went down on one knee and put his hands up to the back of her thigh.  She could feel his breath on her ass, and goosebumps rose all the way down to her knees
He attached first one side, and then the other, but when she attempted to turn, he placed his hands on her wide, soft hips and held her in place.

Wordlessly, she obeyed his silent request that she not move.  He ran his finger under the edge of her lace panties, from the outside of her thigh to the inside, tracing the crescent shape of her sex.

He leaned in closer, his hot breath condensing between her legs.

She had, indeed, been securely fastened.  And he was about to undo it all.


Flash Fiction Friday – Click the link for more information or to play along.  (This is my first attempt at Flash Fiction…so bare with me.)


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