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Slowly she dropped her purse to the bathroom counter and began to strip. Her ebony skin smooth and soft in the harsh lighting of the bathroom. I watched her every movement. Her hands rose up and slipped beneath the straps of her dress pulling them over the sides of her shoulders. She wiggled her arms out of the straps next as my cock started to grow. There was a slight hesitation for what came next but she moved past it as if it did not happen. She pulled the dress down further so it was hunched up above her waist then she bent over and pulled each of her legs free one at a time. My instincts were thrashing hard against my will power telling me to grab her and push up against the bathroom cabinet and fuck her hard right then and there. She would not mind either I could see her body quivering for my touch. Fortunately for me I had learnt to control my urges a long time ago. Or so I thought. I did not notice myself move behind her. It was like I was a passenger or the person standing. We'll have a prize for the best costume."On the phone, in the privacy of her office, Katy blushes red. An image of red boots and proud outhrust breasts and that wild red hair, identical in shade to her own, swept through her. Her clit throbbed in the way it used to do when she'd caught a glimpse of tongue stud.Dress like a hooker?Well... Wasn't there a reason? It was a party after all. Why not. Why not!That night, on the way home, she drove slowly through the red light district, drinking in the details, making mental notes, of the girls, the way they walked, the way they moved. The way they thrust their breasts out and wriggle their asses as cars drive by, the impromptu sexy dances they break into. She watches them lean into cars. Watches the smiles.There's her red goddess. Katy drives right by her, standing on the curb, for a second their eyes meet, and then the woman dismisses her. Just a commuter, not a customer. Her smile is for someone else, someone with money.
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