"What the hell am I doing out here?" I ask myself as I peer through the black night, rain pounding at my windshield. The sky is lit up periodically with lightning, providing my only clue as to my surroundings. Even with the wipers going full tilt, it is hopeless. "I am going to have to pull over, dammit. I am never going to make it to this art opening!"
I am disappointed, I was so looking forward to purchasing another Renaissance oil for my collection. And, I thought to myself, it's a shame I have to waste this amazingly sexy outfit I put together.
Looking down at my short white silk dress, I am aroused by the sight of my taut tanned thighs, covered only by sheer white stockings halfway up. "Mmmm, I am so glad I bought this white lace garter belt." When I stand up, the hem of my dress barely grazes the top of my stockings, just giving a little peek of what's underneath as I walk.
The top of my dress is not tight, but I noticed that when I walk, my full breasts sway gently. My french lace brassiere is sheer enough that you can see the shadow of my areolae. The slight friction of the silk keeps my nipples a bit erect, but discreetly so.
The only light visible is at a house about 100 feet off the road. "Well, it's probably not a good idea to do this, but it's my only option right now." I make my way up the rocky driveway, wobbling on my high heeled sandals. Soaked to the skin, my long dark hair clinging to my neck, I knock on the door, praying someone is home.
I don't hear a reply so I turn the knob and push the door open. It creaks loudly and I call out, "Anyone home? I am sorry to intrude but I really need some help!" I walk into a nicely furnished home, lots of chocolate-brown leather furniture and heavy rugs, glass tables. "Hmm, a man must live here."