Whatever props Henry had brought, he’d kept the packing list to himself. A pair of panties for her to wear later, maybe. Her basic black dress flowed to her knees, concealing private joys. The garters holding up her stockings and their thin belt circling her hips swayed and tugged with her steps. Hidden to sight and hidden to awareness parted ways between her thighs. The free flow of air created a tiny but powerful underskirt breeze across her bare lips. She floated on the same thrill Jay did, except with deeper knowledge of the layers beneath their buoyancy. Standing before the desk, the source of their excitement betrayed no hint of what the night held. Though Henry wore a sharp suit, the black a match for her dress, what cloaked him wasn’t fabric but confidence. Yet even his unruffled calm carried an expectant air. “Good evening, Caitlyn. I trust all is in order?” “Yes sir, Master Henry.” After stowing their phones in Henry’s numbered box, Caitlyn dug under the desk.
