“What kind of underwear are you wearing?” “I… um, what?” His hand slides up the curve of my hip, squeezing my waist. “I plan on chucking you around a bit. Don’t want you flashing any of the audience. That’s my job.” Through the fabric of my tight dress, he finds the wispy lace of my thong, running his fingers over it like he’s checking that it’s really there. He tuts. “These feel pretty flimsy. I guess I’ll have to improvise.”
