He offers a drink and ogles her ring.
She rings a number, but says not a thing.
He orders champagne to be sent upstairs.
She sends a message, he waits unawares.
He pats the bed as he shrugs off his coat.
She removes rings then pats her dry throat.
He plans the theft swiftly without delay.
She knows the real plan is going her way.
He frowns when aware she knows of his game.
She makes him aware 'P.C.' Smith is her name.
He tries to bluff when he knows he is caught.
She catches her breath and waits for support.
He jumps at the sound of the door bursting wide.
She burst out commands when he tries to hide.
He oozes sweat as he's taken away.
She oozes style in her 'touch of class' way.
The End........
Fay Slimm
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/touch-of-class-sequel/
