Taste

The skirt too short, too tight, too shiney, too cheap.

The top the same, buttons straining, fabric bunching, flesh spilling.

Bra too small, knickers mismatched, stockings twisted and laddered.

She was squeezed and squashed in colours too bright and too brash for daytime.

The look didn’t work, she looked cheap, trashy and down at heel in her scuffed stilettos.

He shouldn’t want her but the way she looked at him as if she already knew what he liked made him need to fuck her.

Undressed and rolling over and under him it wouldn’t matter she had no taste in clothes.

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