He was standing right in front of me, all suited and booted - hand cut and tailor made - clean-shaven, in his late twenties or early thirties and hot as any GQ model.
My head began to clear rapidly as he held up a phone towards me. It was an iPhone 6 Plus, complete with 5.5 inch HD display and that was my underwear revealed in glowing, high contrast, dual domain pixels.
I knew they were mine because that was me holding them up in the picture right next to my slutty, smiling face.
Was that really me? Could I really look that way?
God help me, I guess I could.
Thank you Apple Inc.
Thank you for those extra two inches of retina HD, they really capture the moment.
He turned the phone back to face him and began reading.
"Look at these perfect tits," his eyes stayed fixed on the screen, "look at this sexy ass." He looked back at me and my heart froze as I met his gaze. The words were achingly, gut wrenchingly familiar. "You know you want me," he continued, "and you know you want these. They're mine. I was hot in them, " he paused, "for you."
He turned the phone to me again.
"By 'these' Victoria, I presume you mean your panties. Am I correct?"
Those were my words alright and those were my panties, but I had no earthly clue who this asshole was or how he had gotten a hold of that picture…
YOU ARE READING
WEAK Part One
RomanceIf anyone could raise three grand out of old underwear it was her. "Okay." I said. "I'll go get some." I watched their jaws drop but Clarissa recovered her composure in a heartbeat. "Not just any." She said. "We need the ones you're wearing now." ...
