Pretty Young Thing in Pretty Purple Satin

Jake Splinter sees a beauty from the past, Bridget. She's the one that got away. But when he chases her down, he discovers it's not Bridget but her eighteen-year-old daughter, Scarlet, and where Bridget was innocence and chastity, Scarlet is wicked.

“Then get down on your knees,” Scarlet orders.
Jake falls to his knees, and he looks up at her for approval.
“That’s very good, Jake,” she says. “Now come over here and have a look.”
He crawls across the coffee shop's bathroom floor until he’s face to crotch with the smooth, shiny satin.
“Do you recognize them?” she asks.
The panties are purple like a plum, and there’s a tiny bow on the waistband.
“Yes, I do,” he stammers.
“Are you sure? Maybe you need to get closer and feel them to make absolutely certain.”
He swallows and starts to reach out, but she slaps his hand.
“Nuh uh,” she says, waggling her finger at him in rebuke. “No hands.”
He looks up at her. She’s smiling her wicked smile. He looks down at the panties and leans closer until his tip of his nose is rubbing on the smooth satin. She puts her hand on the back of his head and thrusts her crotch at him, pushing his face between her legs.
“These are the panties you bought for my mother,” she says. “I took them right out of the package. Can you smell them?”

And wicked girls always get what they want.