Suzi's Shopping Trip

The office phone rang as I shut down the computer, another day at an end. It was my boss, John.

"Deal done!" he exclaimed.

"Fantastic, well done!" I replied.

"And well done to you – it wouldn't have happened without your creative genius."

"Thanks, man," I replied.

It truly was great news. We had worked on this project for weeks, and now it had come to fruition – a very lucrative long-term contract with a blue chip company was a huge bonus for a small firm like ours.

"I've just left the airport and I'll be home in about 40 minutes," he said. "Why don't you meet me at my place and we'll have a drink to celebrate."

John and I were good friends. He was my boss, but he'd taken a punt on me several years ago as a struggling, failed author trying to get into ad copy writing with no experience. He had taught me a lot of things about the industry, and now with this deal, together we had hit pay dirt.

I arrived at his house and rang the doorbell. His wife, Suzi, let me in.

"Hi David, John's not home yet, but he told me the news. Isn't it great?"

"It's brilliant. Makes it all worthwhile – I should hit him up for a raise."

She laughed and handed me a beer. She grabbed her own already-poured wine glass and we adjourned to the living room, sitting opposite one another on their pair of expensive looking leather sofas, and exchanged small talk about our days. I knew Suzi quite well; John would often invite me round for after-work drinks. She is a warm and bubbly girl – and very good looking.

Suzi is about 27, quite a bit younger than John, but certainly no trophy wife as far as I could see. Their relationship appeared to be pretty good, they seemed like a perfect fit, the kind of thing I'd been looking for but so far in my 35 years hadn't quite yet managed.

Suzi is nice to be around and she could also be a little flirtatious at times, although never anything overt, more in a sort of innocent girly kind of way. I would sometimes mildly flirt back with her, but it was never anything beyond goodhearted playfulness. I always had the feeling that she was actually quite a shy person.

But she was my wife's boss, and I really had never entertained any desires upon her beyond the fact that she was first-class eye candy - with her slim figure, lovely shoulder length brown hair, her perfectly shaped little tits, flashing blue eyes and cute smile, she sure was something to behold.

"I've been out shopping today," she said. "Got this skirt – what do you think?" She was looking down at it, tugging the hem lightly. She was wearing a short light blue skirt that flared slightly, and a white tight-fitting singlet top that accentuated the shape of her smallish but oh so cute and perfectly rounded breasts. With the white running shoes she was wearing it was kind of like a tennis outfit, except that it was just a little too formal looking.

"Looks great," I replied. It was true. "It's the perfect compliment to your fabulously sexy legs."

She blushed slightly at the ridiculous banter tumbling out of my mouth. I almost blushed myself – 'fabulously sexy legs'? Oh dear...

"Oh, you men!" she sighed. "It's a bit short for my liking, but I hope John likes it."

"Well, as a man," I continued, hoping I hadn't embarrassed her with the fabulously sexy legs thing, "I can understand why he would want to look at you in short skirts. And I think he will like this one."

"I hope so. He always likes it when I'm wearing something nice, especially when it catches the eye of another guy. He seems to like it when other guys check me out. That's why I asked you."

She looked good, alright. And she'd certainly caught my eye. She was facing me, comfortably reclined, her legs not quite together as she continued to fiddle with the hem of the dress, examining her purchase. She asked me what I thought of the colour as she ran her fingers around the hem, sorting of flicking it up a bit and then letting it settle back down, briefly exposing the tops of her upper thighs. She looked down again and admired the skirt, which had now ridden up an inch or so. I told her she would look good in that skirt in any colour.

"You think so?" she said, this time shifting in her seat. Her legs had come apart a little. A felt a surge a blood to my brain as I beheld the sight of this sexy little creature and the realisation hit me that maybe this wasn't an accident; it was blatant. Surely it must have been blatant? She wanted to show off her new skirt and her long, tanned legs. Clearly, it seemed to me, she was fishing for compliments about her body – in a manner that was a little bit too overt considering she was sitting in the lounge of her house with a man who wasn't her husband. This was a side of Suzi I hadn't seen and I was starting to wonder where this was heading – but I wasn't too worried because I knew John would be home at any minute. Comfortable in that knowledge, I thought, 'why not play along a while?' I was wondering how much more I would see, whether by accident or design.

"Suzi, you look great in that. You're a very sexy looking woman. You've got better legs than most 18 year olds."

"You really think my legs look good?" she replied, briefly looking up at me with a shy smile before glancing back down at her legs, as if to see for herself that I wasn't just making it up. Now her legs had come apart a bit more. Sitting there, not four feet in front of me, she was all but brazenly displaying her panties.

The tension in the air was unmistakable now, and it wasn't just the pounding in my brain and heart, and in my cock, which was definitely starting to stir. If this kept up any longer I'd be having to hide a massive hard-on. There was a pause in the conversation as she sipped her wine. I took a big slug of my beer. I decided to get a little bolder.

"Do you like it when men look at you?" I asked cautiously. "I mean, you know, when you're out on the town with John, dressed up, and some guy sort of eyes you up as you walk by or something."

She blushed a little.

"Well, yeah, I suppose. I suppose every girl likes to be admired. But sometimes you can feel a bit creepy with someone leering at you."

She leaned across the coffee table to place the wine glass on a coaster. I wondered how many glasses she'd had before she arrived. In doing so, her right leg shifted outwards, and when she sat back down she left it as it was. Her legs were now a good foot apart. Not very lady like, but she continued our conversation as if she didn't notice her sitting position – even though she was still playing with the material of the skirt and glancing down at her legs. Anyone who saw her like this would be leering at her, that's for sure, I thought to myself. I certainly was; I could look nowhere else.

"You should be proud of your beauty and the reactions it inspires in people," I continued, "even the creepy ones. I'm looking at your legs now and admiring them; does it make you feel creepy?"

It should have been obvious to her that I was ogling her legs, and now I was staring at the white, panty covered V-shape under her skirt which had just become exposed as she shifted a little on her seat. As if to illustrate the discussion about her legs, she was gently and playfully swinging them in and out, tugging on the skirt lifting it and smoothing it back down, as if to make sure her dress was in order. When she flicked the hem, I could plainly see straight up her skirt. I was able to see the top of her slim white panties and even as far as the band around the waist before she smoothed it back down again. She may have looked up at me but I wouldn't know; I couldn't stop looking at her legs. My eyes were glued to her legs. My cock was now rock hard; my throat was dry. I belted down the rest of the beer.

"No, it's nice, I guess. Do you think my legs are really that sexy?"

As she asked the question, she was pulling the hem back, to expose the tops of her thighs, as if to make a visual judgment about her legs, but always with this pretence of naïve innocence, as if she had no idea she was exposing herself the way she was. Yet she must have known.

I was almost lost in the reverie of her display. I was so turned on I almost couldn't speak. My head was throbbing. I cleared my throat and tried to get a grip on myself.

"I bet John loves the feel of your legs, they look so smooth and silky," I said. I feared that with that, that I had just skated onto thin ice – what if she really didn't realise what a sexy display she was putting on? I certainly didn't want an ugly scene with John over me perving under his wife's skirt and making lewd comments.

"Well, they are smooth," she said, as she gently ran a finger down the inside of her right thigh, to demonstrate just how smooth and silky they were. I sighed under my breath, relieved that she wasn't suddenly outraged at my boldness. Instead, the situation was escalating. She sat there, still not really looking up at me, legs now more than a foot apart, running her finger along her left inner thigh and taking the skirt with it as she neared her pussy. It was now plainly in view; she was obviously wearing a g-string, I could even see the bottom of the string where it disappeared up her arse and I could even make out the delicate shape of her lips. All the while she continued to glance down at her legs, hardly looking at me, her left leg playfully swinging in and out.

Then, under my mesmerised gaze, she lightly ran her finger all the way up her thigh to her pussy, briefly and gently running up and down the outer lips on her left side. I almost blew my load right there.

"Well, it's nice to be appreciated," she said, with a kind of giggling flourish.

With that, the door swung open and in walked John. I felt a surge of almost relief as the sexual heat that had built up within the room suddenly dissipated and I leapt from my chair to shake my boss' hand.

"Welcome home buddy," I said, suddenly realising there was a massive hard on display in my pants. I hoped he hadn't seen it. Whether or not Suzi noticed, I wasn't sure.

"Man, I'm busting for the loo," he said. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll be right back." He gave his wife a kiss and a hug and disappeared into the bathroom.

Suzi and I resumed our seats. She looked up at me and smiled as she took another swig from her glass. Then she lifted one leg and placed it on the chair.

"I had a really relaxing day today," she continued. As she spoke, she idly let one hand drift down until it settled on her inner thigh, right up high on her left leg.

"After my shopping trip I went down to the beach for a few hours."

Any other day I might have been conjuring up images of her lying majestically on the beach topless, but not now. With one leg up on the sofa, and the other spread widely apart, there was no mistaking the lewdness of the display. There was no pretence now, no denying the fact of what she was doing, which was exposing herself right there in front of me. And this time she was looking at me, smiling. She was gently rubbing her fingers up and down her pussy lips.

"It was so hot down there!" she said, her words breaking the spell she had me under as I suddenly remembered she was talking about the beach. Her blue eyes were wide and sparkling as she smiled at me. I could hardly believe my eyes. Now she was looking straight at me, straight into my eyes, but I couldn't prevent me gaze from drifting back to her crotch. She was rubbing her hand on her crotch right there in front of me, gently, two fingers, up and down, legs wide apart, skirt up so high it she might as well not have even been wearing it. Then her finger moved across to lightly slide up and down the outer elastic of her g-string. She slipped a finger inside the elastic and pulled the white material across to one side to reveal her beautifully shaved pussy. She held it there, completely exposing herself, her wetness glistening as she then rubbed her index finger up and down her slit. I looked up briefly and she was looking straight into my eyes, grinning madly.

"Yes, very hot," I croaked. I felt the rush of blood; at that moment I would have come with the slightest of touches to my cock. But right then John returned to the room, and Suzi casually resumed a seating position more in keeping with the particular social situation she was in. Again I was relieved, although somewhat deflated that this incredible show was now over. I excused myself to the bathroom and stayed there a while to regain my composure.

Dinner was a normal pleasant affair like any other I'd had at John's house as we celebrated our good fortune at work. Suzi was the perfect hostess, acting throughout as if nothing had happened.

I made my farewells at about 11pm, and they saw me to the door. I shook John's hand goodnight, and the Suzi reached around in front of John standing at the door to kiss me goodbye.

She leaned across, and with that the top of her thigh nestled against my cock. It was subtle but definite, and John could not see it from where he was. "Goodnight David, it was a wonderful night, see you again." With a hand on my shoulder she reached up to kiss me on the lips, darting her tongue inside my mouth for the briefest of moments before withdrawing, and with that flashing smile bade farewell and disappeared inside. It was so quick and subtle that John, standing behind her, could never have seen the tongue kiss.

I walked down the drive and to my car in a complete fog, my cock suddenly rock hard again and my brain wondering where all this was going to lead.