Indian Up Skirt Spy
She sat very straight and sipped her mulled drink, looking childishly morose.I found a shilling and tossed it in the air. "Call it," I said to the goggling George. "Tails," he said. I slapped it down, lifted my hand and said, "heads" before he had a glimpse. I had not bothered to look at the coin myself. "You take his lordship to Morristown, and I'll take that little bird to bed. She looks in desperate need to me." Two out of three?" George asked, and I shook my head.George nodded to Uncle Josh and Maggy, and they shooed the late customers out into the weather and quietly bolted the door while Milly served the unsuspecting pair their food and drink near the fireplace. Then George and I joined the officer and his "niece" at their table, pulling up our chairs with friendly smiles as if we were planning on a game of whist.My friend put his hand on the man's arm and politely asked, "How's the beef?" I put my paw on the girl's thigh. The officer growled and jumped to his feet, reaching. I answer.Shes going out tonight, just her, and wondered if I wanted to go along. Apparently, theirs a killer new club opened up on the outskirts of town. I should really go, she said. Whats the alternative? A trashy movie and a few extra hours in the gym? Yeah, sure I respond. Sounds like fun.I'm waiting outside when her taxi shows up, snug black t shirt with horizontal slits across the front that leave just enough to the imagination, black stonewashed tight jeans that hug my firm ass, strapy six inch steel spiked heels. I'm out to steal some hearts tonight. The black cab door swings open and I pause just a second to check out Sarah. I'm not the only one dressed to score I think as my eyes absorb her long, chocolate colored legs extending from her short skirt, the smooth ebony flesh of her flat stomach, her pretty face surrounded in fashionably straight dark hair. She was straight, however, until drunk that is. Much to my personal amusement. I'd been sworn to secrecy on more than one.
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