Watch Me

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Lana felt a tingling sensation at the back of her neck. That inkling of a feeling that told her someone was watching her.

It was a relatively quiet Tuesday night at the Red Valley Mall and Lana was left to entertain herself at the lingerie store where she worked.

The only people around weren’t even technically people, but the mannequins in the front window. Sometimes Lana wished she was a mannequin displayed in the window for people to ogle on their way by. She wouldn’t mind people looking her over, their eyes grazing across her flesh. She’d love to watch women’s eyes widen at her risque lingerie and watch men’s eyes turn dark with lust as their pants bulged.

Speaking of watching, Lana definitely felt someone’s eyes on her. It appeared she didn’t have to be on display in the window in order to be admired after all.

Someone was watching her. She just knew it. Someone was raking their eyes up and down her spine, creating shivers from her neck all the way down to her ankles.

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