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I disappeared into the bedroom, the air already thick with the promise of the evening. Liam was sprawled on the couch, lost in some video game, all rumpled t-shirt and focused frown. Perfect. Tonight was one of those nights. I loved the ritual, the slow transformation. The dress I chose was simple, black, and clung just enough. But the real magic was underneath.
The rustle of silk always made me smile. These pantyhose were a recent obsession – a smooth, tan shimmer that felt decadent against my skin. They hugged every curve, making my legs feel impossibly long and sleek. It was an armor of confidence, a silent invitation. I padded back into the living room. Liam hadn’t moved, still battling pixelated monsters. I leaned against the doorframe, letting him soak in the view. The curve of my hip, the way the light caught the sheen of my legs.
