Science Fiction (Double Feature)

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Skin.

Pale, freshly shaven. Barely plump against the satin band of the thigh-top, brazenly peek-a-boo between the threaded cross-hatching of the fishnet stockings.

Brad stares, slack-jawed and glass-eyed, at the picture before him.

 

 

I need you to pick some things up for me on your way home, Janet had said. The way she’d quirked her brow when he looked at the list —

fishnet stockings, black bustier corset, satin panties – all with size specifications

— should have been his first clue.

But… This?

No, he’d not been expecting this. He’d been too caught up in the idea of her wearing those things to question the list’s contents or purpose, especially when she’d reminded him that it was her turn to plan date night.

“Date night” usually translated to “sexy fun.” And plan, she did.

She always had a plan.

And her plans never failed to turn his expectations on their head.

 

 

Turning his own head to meet her assessing gaze in the full length mirror, he watches now as her lips curl upward in sardonic insousance. “Not quite what you expected?” she asks, dragging a single red fingernail over the stockinged netting.

He swallows audibly, blushing crimson in answer.

She steps closer, pressing her fully clothed limbs against his barely-covered body.

“I know you thought I was going to be the one wearing the fishnets tonight, darling,” she says, “but your legs… Well, Tim Curry’s got nothing on you. I couldn’t not dress you up for date night.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

The Rocky Horror Picture Show started at midnight.

It was sexy.

 

Brad and Janet’s show continued on long after the credits rolled.

It was sexier.

 

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