[ControlPhreak]

I motion for the woman to sit across from me admiring her legs and hips in her black and red short skirt while she gets comfortable. Legs crossed I see the bumps of her garter on the tops and sides of her thighs pressing hard at the wool skirt. I offer to take her coat and offer her something from the bar as we start to leave the curb and the doors lock with a thud.

“I saw you eyeing the thickness of the door and window,” I say nonchalantly. “It’s an armored limo, used to belong to the British embassy. No one can see or hear what's going on in here. The glass is 75mm thick and the rest is reinforced with heavy metal plate,” I watch her reaction to this information, fingers fidgeting, crossed leg bouncing nervously and flashing her lacy stocking tops. “It’s a rolling fortress," I chuckle jokingly, eyeing the matte black metal rings in the top and bottom corners of the passenger bench. “How rude of me, my name is Bradley Smythe, a pleasure to meet you,” I say confidently, extending my hand.

“Jasmine, the pleasure is all mine,” she says in a delicious southern accent, shaking my outstretched hand. I glance down at her large chest pulling at her silky blouse as I take her hand. As I admire the fine lace detail of her bra I glance up and realize she’s noticed my focused gaze. “I do apologize for staring but did you get your blouse at Chanel?” I asked, “My wife has one identical to it,” I lied.

“Stephen, can you quickly pull into the garage? Jasmine should arrive at her meeting in a clean car should she not? What if she’s observed getting out of a filthy car, it hardly makes a good impression.”

The car slips into a garage requiring a pass-key which Steven pulls from his gray suit pocket. The silver credit-card looking device has a small screen displaying 5 numbers that change every few seconds. “Can’t be too careful they tell me,” I laughingly say to Jasmine noticing her apprehension at seeing the card. “It’s where I keep and clean my cars, nothing more sinister than that,” I reassure her.

The large metal door closes with a mechanical thud as the car enters a vast open space seemingly larger than the large building it's beneath. A large red rectangle with a number stenciled inside marks the places of each car in the large, clean well lit open space. The long rectangle for the limo is marked with a 9 and appears to be perhaps 2 feet wider and longer than the car.

“Everything in it’s proper place I always say,” noticing jasmine examining the parking outlines on the smooth concrete. “Everything,” I repeat absent mindedly as my eyes flick to the metal rings again.