Whenever I’d seen her, she was dressed, well, like my mother, in modest dresses or pant suits. Now she stood before me, wearing an extremely short l...ather skirt, that left the lacy tops of her stockings exposed, extremely high heels, and a low cut top, that emphasized her ample cleavage. She was in good shape for a woman ten years her junior and, even though she was my mother’s friend, I thought she looked rather hot. Her dirty blonde hair, which was normally pulled back in a pony tail, was. Once again her demeaner, the long pause, it all made me feel slightly anxious and maybe a little belittled before she took it from me thanking me without even looking at it or me. Opening her elegant black handbag she glanced at my card and slipped it inside, turned and still looking at the promotion boards, she stepped slowly down from the stand. ‘Wait!’ I was slightly startled at the abrupt tone of my voice. In fact, I felt like I had shouted and couldn’t help notice a few glances from those. More

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