She sat there, waiting, dressed just as he’d requested. Her bare bottom warming the cold steel step, a slow trickle of arousal leaving irrefutable evidence of how all this made her feel.
She’d wiped the step down carefully with tissues before she sat down, she wanted it as clean as possible. Not just because of her bare bottom on it, but because of what she imagined he might make her do when he sees the mess she’s left on it.
What she hopes he’ll make her do.