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SH9393 - Lay Lady Lay |
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Adorable erotic satin tapestry flowered jacquard long-line bustier with lightly padded underwire cups, adjustable straps with ruffle trim, hook-and-eye front, back boning, a waist cinching lace-up back, flirty 2" ruffle around the bottom, adjustable garters and matching g-string. Gloves sold separately.
Price: $ 59.95 / Set
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The saloon stinks of smoke and full spitoons. Fist fights regularly punctuate what is at best a troubled calm. Stupefied drunks are given the belt-and-collar heave-ho through the swinging doors when they start slobbering on the shoulders of the sporting women. And they, in all shapes and sizes, in all manner of dress and undress, have two things in common. They work the room like a miner swinging a pick all day, for days on end, hoping to strike the mother lode, but knowing in their cold hearts that such a thing happens only in fairy tales. And they all have utter distaste for the male species, and wear it on their tired painted faces in expressions of disgust and derision.
All but one of them.
She looks younger than the rest, but for the most part it's only by comparison. She seems new and unsullied, and struts through the room like a fine pony. If anyone in this joint knew the word "coquette," they may have described her as such in many self-deluded conversations about what they would do to her if only given the chance. She wears a cleverly made satin bustier with small hidden pads for a generous bosom, a garden of flowers on the bodice, ruffles at the delicious curve of her hips that barely cover the tiniest panty she could find to match. It laces up in the back, has strategically placed boning and is cut long -- a bit longer than her body -- to aid in pushing up, pushing down and holding in. The illusion, and it's only slight, gives her a comely and achingly desirable appearance.
She's watched most closely by a sodbuster who comes here only because it's the sole place in town to get his one, and only one, drink of whiskey each night. He has the same longing as other men, but hasn't yet seen a woman here who didn't make him feel slightly queasy at the thought of any, especially intimate, contact. Until this one.
Later, after the doors of the saloon have finally closed for the night, he waits for her. He asks if he might take her home, and after a pause to study his face, she agrees. When they arrive, she invites him in, pours them each a drink and listens as he expresses his good intentions, hints that he might take her away from all that, and spells out his bona fides as a provider. All the while, she stands in front of him, nodding and gently tugging here, there, everywhere at her costume, spending the longest time reaching around her back. Then, with a suddenness that leaves her visitor agape, it drops to the floor.
"You're so sweet," she says. "But I'm not looking for a savior. I need a sinner." And as she turns to walk into her bedroom, he sees a big brass bed, and follows.
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 Vicki's Drawers
P.O. Box 381076
Clinton Twp., MI 48038-9997
United States
Ph: 1-586-797-9029
Fax: 1-586-797-9029
e-mail: vickisdrawers@yahoo.com
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