I knock at your door. The bitter winter wind swirls around me, flowing up between my stocking clad legs. I shiver. Locks of carefully curled hair are tossed in the breeze. The thin red coat I have on to hide my evening attire is doing nothing to keep me warm. My nipples push against silk; the corset restraining them only creates further friction, making me shift my weight trying to ease the tingle between my thighs. You f...