A new touch. Not just air, this time. The lightest of tugs at my hem. A finger — or a thumb, maybe — sliding beneath its strained fabric. What the...��?I tensed as I realized that the breeze up my skirt hadn’t come from the window or a fan. It was human breath. That of someone who’d been watching me. Somebody who must have been aroused by that indecent hemline, and perhaps by a glimpse of my red pussy in the shadow of my wicked, creeping dress. Someone who was caressing my right buttock with a. A little later her door intercom sounded – ‘Courier package for Miss Bycroft.’ ‘Bring it up,’ she said, pressing the electronic door lock release, tightening her robe and walking off to find her wallet to extract a tip. Someone must be filthy rich to commission a courier delivery on a Sunday, she mused, returning to the door. Sierra walked to the elevator and the over-fed courier didn’t even have to exit as she reached through to hand him a five and take the delivery – flowers. She smiled at. More

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