Beth was gorgeous. That evening, she was still wearing her work outfit - a tight-fitting dark grey minidress that barely covered her arse when she was standing up, never mind sitting, and smooth black tights which showed off her long skinny legs to perfection. The dress clung to waist and her pert B-cup breasts. She was sat opposite me on an armchair also occupied by her boyfriend, Andy; she was sat in his lap, leaning back against one arm with her legs over the other. Her inhibitions had lessened as the wine had flowed, so that I was being treated to more and more prolonged views of her thighs as her hem rode up (or, more accurately, fell down as she raised her legs) and forgot to readjust it to protect her modesty. The thin black material stretched across her thighs, revealing the warp and weft, and I glimpsed an occasional flash of red knicker elastic beneath the control top of her tights.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to change the position of my cock so that it wasn't painfully trapped pointing down the leg of my jeans without letting the three other people in the room know what I was doing. Not that I would have minded Steve, the huge rugby player sprawled on the sofa to my right, know what was happening -- we'd watched a couple of pornos with our former housemate Colin after the getting back from the pub the worse for wear. I mean, we hadn't got our dicks out and started wanking or anything weird like that. We'd just been -- you know - blokes watching porn.
No. I was trying to hide my situation partly from the couple sat in the armchair opposite. Andy and Beth had moved into the large double room at the front of the house when Colin bought his own place. They were a perfectly matched couple: both tall, skinny and athletic, both incredibly smart, both teachers, both from nice middle-class families in the Home Counties. Like Colin, they had moved into this dump while trying to save up for a deposit for a house, renting somewhere cheap and vaguely cheerful in the meantime.
Which is why, on a spring Friday evening, I was sat watching Beth sitting in James' lap drinking cheap red wine. And watching her that had made my cock hard.
"Carl?"
Steve's voice bought me back into the room with a start. I looked over and saw him grinning at me --it was obvious that Beth wasn't the only one forgetting herself after a few glasses of plonk and that he'd caught me lecherously staring up our young housemate's skirt.
"Hmmm?" I asked, non-committedly.
"If you could physically change one thing about yourself, what would it be?"
I took a sip of wine and thought for a few seconds. "Lose the beer belly... be a couple of inches taller.... Maybe be a little less hairy...."
"Some women like a hairy man," Beth chipped in. I desperately hoped that she was one of them.
"And what about you, Miss Shapwick?" Steve asked mischievously.
When I said earlier that Beth was gorgeous, she wasn't without her faults; she was gorgeous, but she would never make it as a model. Her hair, for example, was a sort of mousy brown and would never feature in a shampoo commercial for its lusciousness. When she wore it down, it did do a fantastic job of hiding her sticky-out-ears which I was sure she would have been teased about as a child. She wore it down a lot, apart from when she was running (a daily occurrence) when she wore it in a high ponytail. I looked across and hoped that she wouldn't say that she wanted bigger boobs -- I had spent many an evening looking at them through her tops, imagining sucking on her hard little nipples, seeing how much of her breasts I could fit into my mouth at once.
"Weeeellll...." she thought. "I'd like my skin to be better." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Some days it's fine and then the next day it can be all rashy and spotty and there doesn't seem to be any reason. I've got a wedding to go to in a couple of weeks and I wish I could guarantee my face would look lovely in the photo's."
"Your face always looks lovely," Andy smiled at her.
"Awwww, thanks!" she replied and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"You know what's good for skin, don't you?" Steve asked, a grin on his face. I think we all knew what coming, so to speak, but didn't have time to stop the punchline. "Sperm!" he guffawed and lent back laughing at his own joke.
"I do my best!" Andy replied and got a punch in the arm for his efforts.
"And what about you Steve?" Beth asked, not at all put out by the crude turn the conversation had taken. "What would you change about yourself?"
Steve swung his legs off the sofa and suddenly looked serious. "Well," he started, gloomily looking at his hands and rubbing them together, anxiously. "If you must know... I do have one thing that I would change.... It's made my life a living hell at times.... I wish.... well...." We all learned in expectantly. "I wish I had a smaller penis!" We all groaned and leant back in our seats. "Just the 9 inches would do!" he smiled.
"And on that sour note," Andy said, "It's time for bed."
*********************
I had a troubled night's sleep, waking intermittently, and every time I woke, I had an image of Beth drifting through my mind. Beth as she was sat last night, flashing her legs; Beth standing with her back to me, lifting her skirt to reveal her pert bum, skimpy red thong visible through her black pantyhose; Beth with my cock in her mouth; Beth, her brown hair spread over a white pillow pushing her tiny tits together whilst I straddled her naked torso and wanked my cock; Beth with her eyes glued together and face covered in huge wads of cum, huge wads of my cum...
I woke early with a raging hard-on. I was tempted to take matters into my own hands there and then, but I had a whole day of doing nothing but watching sport and porn ahead of me and decided to pace myself a little. Who knew what the day would bring?
When my morning wood had subsided a bit, I slumped out of bed and headed, scratching and yawning, downstairs to the kitchen in search of coffee and breakfast. I pushed open the kitchen door and found Beth already standing in the open patio doors, eating a bowl of what would undoubtedly be healthy and utterly tasteless granola. If I thought I had woken early, she had clearly beaten me by a long stretch -- her sweat stained running gear clung to every inch of her lythe young body. I subconsciously glanced down, hoping that my cock was behaving itself and not rising to the occasion as it had last night.
"Morning!" she beaned at me, turning around in a way that made the high ponytail whip around on her shoulders.
"Hnnngghh," I grunted in reply, turning the kettle on.
Beth remained standing in the window as I made myself a coffee and sat at the dining room table behind her, admiring her arse in the tight black bottoms she was wearing. There was a definite ridge where her bum met her legs, and a gap between her thighs that you could definitely slip a finger between even when she was standing straight with her feet together. Silhouetted against the morning light like this her figure was even clearer.
Eventually she finished her breakfast and turned to face me. Months of practice made be focus on her smiling face rather than her tits or groin, but man was it hard to do.
"No Andy this morning?" I asked. They normally ran together, doing 10k quicker than I could do 5.
"He's away this weekend -- Duke of Edinburgh -- remember?" I vaguely remembered a conversation about it; it came as no surprise that wholesome Andy would give up his weekend to take a bunch of entitled middle-class kids camping rather than spending his time fucking his sexy girlfriend senseless. Beth walked over to the sink, her arse cheeks gently wobbling in the tight lycra, and washed her bowl in the sink before filling a glass of water and returning to sit at the table with me.
"Errr..." she started nervously. "What do you think about what Steve said last night?"
"Naahh," I replied, taking a sip of coffee. "No way he's got a 10-inch dick."
