[rojoa]

Inna marches into the mansion, eyeing the doors to the ballroom. She knows she makes a good impression in her close fitting fur coat that shows off her curves. The coat ends a few inches below her well shaped bubble butt and below that her long gown sweeps along the floor. She knows the Gates well enough to know this is more party that funeral and her veil and bright hat are a parody of grief.

“I like Reza. By rights we should be like sisters. I almost hate to do this to her…but she deserves it”

She walks purposefully towards the closed and elegantly carved ballroom doors, behind which she can clearly hear November Rain. She eyes the doorman, waiting for him to open the door. He looks up impassively “upstairs please. The Gates ask that people be received properly”, and he nods towards the grand staircase.

From the top, she looks down on the other guests, comfortable that she’s unrecognized until she’s ready to spring her trap. This is a house she knows intimately from when the Gates treated her like a daughter. She enters the coat room, remembering piano lessons with the Gates daughters and her first kiss in the coat closet.

The station is manned by Juli, a young girl in a gown like Inna’s, except without the curves. Her less responsible and busty friend Anna lounges nearby, staring out the window.

“May I take your coat?”
“No thank you”
“Erm, actually you have to leave something. The Gates were very specific”
Inna isn’t willing to trust her coat to the tween. “Let’s give her something she can appreciate”
She reaches into her coat as though she’s going to unbutton it and instead slides down the top of her strapless dress. Juli stares at a D-cup bra on her table in horror, turning red, and then envy. Inna feels a little bad for a moment, but is distracted by her breasts exposed under the coat and the feeling of her nipples against the fur of her coat. “Hmmm, maybe I should leave my top down”

Juli is too mortified but Anna realizes both that Inna is hesitating because she’s turned on, and that she’s about to walk away without tipping. “I promised no more shoplifting but this doesn’t count” she thinks, as she dumps the contents of Inna’s purse into the tip basket and slides in several memorial candles in their place.

“Forget something?” asks Anna
Found out, Inna blushes and quickly pulls her dress up, walking out quickly.