The Point in the Pants Thing

Belinda Blumenthal was bored with paperwork. She licked every envelope closed and tripled a jiffy bag. The early morning sun glinted off St Paul's Cathedral as it penetrated her penthouse apartment bathroom. Belinda swivelled on her chrome casters, waiting for the person to appear. But she couldn't hear anything. So what was the point in the panties thing? We might come out of it.