"You were hinting, Mrs Wilson, that such an exotic purchase was maybe not for your husband's benefit? If you don't mind my asking."
I was loving it, I had obviously 'dressed' so much more effectively than ever before. Or maybe - the thought began to worry me - either Isabella had judged him wrong, or even that this was the wrong Kenneth! I decided I had to continue.
"Oh no, he doesn't really appreciate my attraction any more. After all, I'm not the young girl I once was."
True!
"Really, Mrs Wilson. You are not doing yourself justice. Many men would just love to be in the company of a stunningly-dressed woman like yourself, I promise you."
"Why thank you, Mr Jones. That is so kind."
And I turned and kissed him, just briefly, on the cheek. Kenneth enjoyed that, I could tell, but I wanted more and I was sure he did too.
"So, maybe I'll be lucky soon. Find another man, I mean."
"Maybe," he said.
He was standing behind me, looking past me, staring at my reflection. I felt his body press against mine as he moved closer.
"Oh dear, Mrs Wilson. Your stockings, they have been disturbed a little, maybe I should smoothe them for you. It takes a special kind of woman to carry off stockings like that, I think."
"Where?" I asked, knowing full well that there was nothing at all wrong with my stockings as I slid my dress to one side to 'inspect' them.
"Allow me?" he asked, looking into my eyes.
"Of course, Mr Jones" I muttered, rather coyly I hoped.
So I stood there as I watched Kenneth, in the mirror, reach down beside me, stretching his hand across to slide it smoothly but firmly from my knee and right up my right leg, lifting my dress to reveal my bare smooth thigh and approach my thong. I was shaking, I was desperate. The tightly trapped secret between my legs under my black thong was aching for release. I knew it couldn't be long and so desperately hoped Isabella had 'read' this guy right - if it indeed was him. Otherwise he might not like his surprise!
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