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Chapter 11 by dirtykentman

What does he say?

"Prove it"

The first words of the message instantly excited her. "Prove it" seemed an offer as much as a challenge to her. She read on. "If you really mean it, come to my home at 1 o'clock, we will have more privacy so no reason to be nervous this time."

She read it again slowly, the excitement of knowing he wanted to meet her again having an instant effect on her body, making her tingle all over. She glanced at the clock. It was already half past ten. If she was going to meet him at one, she had lots to do; dress, make up, traveling to his home. Two and a half hours to prepare for him. She wanted to be perfect for him and it seemed so little time.

"I'll be there, might be a little late thou, Have to get the bus" she replied to him, hoping he would forgive her if she was late, torn between wanting to rush to be on time, but not rush so much she wasn't looking the best she could.

Having sent her message she rushed back to her room, already searching through her wardrobe, panicking as she tried to decide what she should wear for him. After all, last night she had been in the classiest dress she had ever owned and so she was concerned she would not be able to look as good again for him.

Rummaging through her wardrobe, she threw a few items onto the bed, her mind racing with thoughts of what might happen later, wondering what he might be expecting from her. In the back of her mind a small voice was telling her how stupid she was being, going to meet a stranger over twice her age, but she pushed the voice away quickly, the tingle between her thighs too much for her to change her mind.

Turning back to her bed, ,she studied the various outfits now covering half of it. Such a variety of outfits as she looked down at them, still trying to work out what would be best to wear for him that afternoon.

"Damn it Flis" she chided herself as she stared at the numerous outfits spread haphazardly over her bed, "just pick something or you won't be there until midnight."

She looked again at her bed, now hidden under a pile of clothes, eyes searching for the right thing to wear.

What does she decide to wear?

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