Stone in hand, a realization struck Jon - he needed to be properly attired to face the audacious six-year-old, Stacy Riley. Dressing for a confrontation with a mind-controlling kindergartner was an odd requirement, but then, nothing was normal tonight.
Jon made a beeline for Zoe's room, his older sister who had a taste for the darker side of fashion. He knew she was out - probably raising hell with her new goth friends, so he would have the room to himself.
He stepped inside, the faint scent of patchouli and incense hitting his nostrils, a reminder of Zoe's new goth persona. He began to shed his own clothes, shoes kicked aside, his T-shirt landing in a crumpled heap, jeans shucked off, followed by his boxers. He stood there in the middle of Zoe's room, his teenage body exposed to the cool air. His heart was thudding against his ribcage like a drum, the absurdity of the situation not lost on him.
And then, he faced the challenge of choosing what to wear. On one side, he had Zoe's current goth-inspired wardrobe - all black lace, velvet, and silver chains. On the other, he had her older clothes - cute floral dresses, bright tees, and yes, can't forget the pantyhose, in their default colors, all shoved unceremoniously to the back of her drawers and closet.
There he was, Jon, completely nude in his sister's room, contemplating whether to don fishnet tights and a black velvet corset dress, or suntan pantyhose, followed by a pastel floral dress. What a wild fucking night.
