The Date

Emily Willis is getting ready. She steps out of the shower, rubs lotion over her petite frame, spritzes on perfume, then slides into black satin lingerie with stockings, garters, and tall heels. She tops it off with a beige raincoat and looks like money. The camera lingers while she dresses, a slow, teasing peek instead of the usual strip-down. She heads outside in just the coat, bare legs flashing, and climbs into a black town car. Two suited men are already inside. Danny Mountain sits to her right, Charles Dera to her left, both silent behind dark shades. The car pulls away. Halfway down the block the guy on the right turns and asks if she’s ready. Emily nods. He wants complete surrender. She gives it. He peels the coat off, leaving her in nothing but lingerie and heels. She trembles. A paper bag drops over her head, and strong hands pin her wrists to the seat. The car keeps moving. All you hear are her soft, needy gasps while the men stay cool and quiet, eyes on the road, already owning her.