Lillian's bedroom door was left slightly ajar, but the racket coming from inside was loud enough to echo down the hallway, hangers clattering wildly against the closet rod, drawers slamming open and shut, the soft thump of clothes being tossed onto the floor, mixed with her playful giggles and breathy little huffs of frustration.

Curious, you walked down the hall and paused just outside.

"Come in, I know you there." She called out in a singsong voice the second she heard your footsteps. "Don't just stand there, silly! The door's open!"

You pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Her room was an explosion of fabric and sin. A massive mountain of clothes swallowed her bed, spilled over the chair, and spilled across the floor, tiny dresses, micro-skirts, sheer tops, lace lingerie, fishnet stockings, and strappy little outfits all tangled together. The warm glow of her vanity lights illuminated the chaos as your Mom stood right in front of the towering pile, barefoot and clearly in the middle of changing yet again.

She was wearing an outrageously revealing black lace babydoll that barely reached the tops of her thighs. The sheer fabric clung to her body, the deep plunging neckline showing off the inner curves of her breasts, while the hem fluttered teasingly with every little movement. Beneath it, a tiny matching black thong was clearly visible, the thin straps sitting high on her hips. She glanced up at you with a bright, mischievous smile.

"Ohh! Perfect timing!" She giggled. "Look at this mess I made…"