The black skirt was tight, the petticoatagain preventing it clinging to and revealing her body. The black heeledboots were ludicrous and higher than anything she normally wore, sheimmediately decided that they were impractical for driving, finallydeciding to wear her flats whilst taking the boots with her to changewhen she got there.She looked at her watch, time was rushing by, hurriedly she did hermakeup, a bare touch to her cheeks, a little mascara and a light shade oflipstick. That would do. She left without him seeing her, just closingthe front door and jumping in to her car, placing the boots on thepassenger seat before starting.She was early at the mall even then. She parked up then changed her shoesfor the boots, a little buzz of inner arousal as she zipped them up hercalfs. She found them strange to walk in, the boots and the tight skirtcausing her to have a pronounced wiggle as she walked, her progress slowas she made her way to the caf?. Mary wasn?t there when she arrived. I could only enjoy the sight and wondered if there was even an outside chance of an opportunity to delve into her deep cleavage, up close and personal. “They certainly look great,” she said just before standing. I was not sure if it was a double entendre but it certainly seemed that way. “They certainly do,” I agreed smiling with my eyes riveted to her chest. My mouth had gone dry at this point and my groin was getting restless as I replayed the recent vision in my mind. “I had best be getting on,” she said quickly picking the bundle from the fence top. In spite of the quickness of her movement, I still got another short glimpse of her breasts. It was wonderful titillation, pardon the pun. “Oh, before I forget again. I noticed that your brake lights on the passenger side are out. I have been meaning to mention it to you but …” I blurted, realising she about to conclude our chat and my wanting to prolong it. “Oh really! I had better get my husband to see to them on the weekend. He is.
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