The tiny club dress.

You hardly ever wore this one. It was another of Sarah's ideas, a "fuck-me-tonight" dress that advertised everything about you, from your long legs to your pert breasts, with a sexy cleavage and a laced back. The black made your white skin stand out, offering your assets like a jewellery box around a tiara.

He'd also picked your most shameful possession, that Sarah gift you hid at the bottom of your underwear pile... a ridiculous ensemble that was a mix of slutty and stupid. Sandra bought it as a joke when she was in Vegas. It's lacy, it has gold lettering that suggests that "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" and most importantly it has an open crotch and nipple holes. It's so slutty you feel like you're dripping already.

"Text him, then." you command. He does.

"You're so big... Can I come over?" he types. Then he turns the phone around and makes a picture of your butt as you bend over to pick the dress. It's cunningly made, as it seems you're bending to snap the picture. He sends it over.

Whatever happens now, Jake can never deny his involvement. He wanted this to happen.

The phone beeps soon enough.

"Come over girl. You won't regret this." A location-map comes in.

"The code is A2367. But... weren't you supposed too meet that boyfriend of yours?" he asks.

"Tell him you don't mind." you command.

"He doesn't mind." Jake types in a blur.

"Oh, really? Color me surprised. I may have misjudged you both..."