Dress me down

Ripped stockings, barely holding on, clinging to the straps attached by the hip. No panties, none. Baby you know me, I like being here waiting, anticipating. Let the breeze tickle me, make it harder for me to keep a straight face. I want to be forced to grab my chair to sit still, to have to pinch myself for distraction. Nipples pressing against soft lace and ribbons, anxious, needing. I toss my hair behind my shoulders, bare my collarbones, my shoulders, my freckles. I might be wearing a dress, Honey, but believe me, I wont be wearing it for long.