..What Really HappenedWe were sixteen. It was the week when we had to take all our project work home but I wasn't well enough to get it. Friday rolled...around and on Fridays, Tom would normally come over. I'd cancelled because I was ill, but he was going to pop by to drop off my stuff for me. I'd fallen asleep and was dreaming about him in all different states of undress and arousal.The knock at the door woke me up and I jumped up off the couch, throwing the blanket off, to go answer the door.. God, I'm such a filthy, disgusting mess.It's glorious, and I hate it.In other words, this isn't how I expected my Monday to go.~6:00 P.M. An hour before the madness.Rough black nylon. Smooth wood floors. I paced. Impatient. Thigh-high stockings brushed back and forth over the sparse one-room flat, work clothes folded neatly in the corner. How I got away with it, I’ll never know.I had gone to work as I always do, wearing my navy blazer and pencil skirt like I always do. Underneath, though,. More

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