What I Would Do
Sitting in the back corner of the bar, I watch you working. Your smile lighting up the room as the old drunks flirt with you, your laugh even sexier. The bar is pretty busy, so I can sit back and watch as you move through the bar, the patrons seeing you in jeans and blouse, but me secretly knowing you are wearing a black garter belt, stockings, lacy boy shorts and matching bra. You treat me like any other patron, exactly like I told you too, and expect of you at work, with only a sly wink or a bitten lip here and there. Finally, the last patron leaves, leaving me in the bar alone with you. You go and lock the last door, and I grab you, spinning you, forcing you against a wall …