Jillian carefully touched up her lipstick, a vibrant shade the makers had called 'Sweet Trollop', and smiled. She had everything arranged perfectly, all she needed was her willing victim. A quick call to the cable company had ensured her a playmate between 3 and 5 p.m. Her short silk robe barely covered her ass, and she was wearing thigh-high silk stockings, the garters hooked to the black corset which nipped in her waist and pushed her boobs up. She was already generously gifted in the chest area, and the extra boost from the corset made it appear her breasts were in constant danger of springing forth from their constraints. All in all, she looked hot, and she knew it.
When the doorbell rang, she sauntered to the door and opened it slowly, almost lazily.
"Yes?"
The man on the other side did a double take, his eyes barely rising above her cleavage.
"Uhhh... I'm uh, here to fix your cable," stuttered the man, whose name tag identified him as Brian.
"Oh, thank you, Brian," she batted her lashes, deliberately taking an extra deep breath to push her cleavage up more. "I'd be ever so grateful." Smiling her most winning smile, she stepped back to allow him entrance. Brian followed her breasts like a dog follows a bone. "It's in the bedroom," she said, turning and leading the way. "I just can't figure out what's wrong." Her heels clacked noisily against the hard floor, turning to a muffled thump when she reached the carpeted bedroom. She walked to the television stand against the far wall, leaning down to look at the cable box and putting her ass on display. "It's right down here. There must be something wrong with the box." Brian was right behind her, peering over her shoulder.
"I think I know what your problem is, Ma'am," he said. Sidestepping her, he picked up the cable cord coming from the back of the TV. "You're not plugged into the wall." He began to screw in the cable cord.
