Y’see, I’m a leg man myself. Always have been. I know some guys are tits and ass men and I see ‘em droolin over the girls on page three of the paper, girls with their tits out and their lips wet and their eyes wide. But me, well I like to see a bit of leg. That’s what I first noticed with Sheila, her legs. Back then she had the legs of a model, thin at the ankle and with a good shape to ‘em and long as tomorrow and tomorrow. She was walkin in front of me and walkin wavy and I couldn’t take my eyes off her legs.
We’ve got weddin pictures on the mantlepiece in the house and they don’t look like me or like Sheila. It was all so long ago. My favourite of ‘em is the one where she’s hitched up her dress to show off her blue garter – somethin old, somethin new, somethin borrowed somethin blue – and you can see the whole crook and stretch of her leg… beautiful.
She’s a bit thick about the middle these days and her sunken tits sag and her legs have lost their shape. I ain’t no god’s gift myself, so we rub along ok. But then today and I was just on my way to work mindin my own beeswax, and this car drew up and a lass inside put one leg out of the window. Well, it stopped me short, and I don’t mind admittin that.
Then another leg, and she climbed out the window of the car and her skirt was rucked up about her middle and I could see the whole of what she’d got and what she’d got was past perfect. She apologized and explained that the door was stuck fast on her car and the window was her only way in or out. I said she had nothin to apologise for and I made so bold as to remark on her legs, sayin she had the most beautiful legs I ever saw.
Well, one thing led to another and I didn’t make it to work that day. We went for coffee first and then we got a room in a hotel and she made me feel like I was twenty all over again. Three times we did it and when she was laid back and catchin her breath I couldn’t stop strokin her legs.
I felt real bad afterwards and I took flowers home for Sheila and she asked me what I’d been doing for her to get flowers for no reason and she laughed thinkin she was makin a joke. Shit, I felt bad – feel bad still.
The guys at work wanted to know where I’d been. I swore ‘em to secrecy and then they said I was makin it up when I told ‘em. All the same, they made me tell ‘em again, all the details and I added some bits about her ass and her tits just to keep ‘em sweet. For the next few weeks they kept winkin at me and makin lewd gestures and they showed me the pictures of girls in the paper, askin me if the girl I’d fucked looked anythin like the girl on page three with her tits out.
‘When you gonna get me flowers again?’ Sheila says and each time she says it I get her flowers and I feel like shit all over.
Y’see, I’m a leg man myself. Always have been. I know some guys are tits and ass men and I see ‘em droolin over the girls on page three of the paper, girls with their tits out and their lips wet and their eyes wide. But me, well I like to see a bit of leg. That’s what I first noticed with Sheila, her legs. Back then she had the legs of a model, thin at the ankle and with a good shape to ‘em and long as tomorrow and tomorrow. She was walkin in front of me and walkin wavy and I couldn’t take my eyes off her legs.
We’ve got weddin pictures on the mantlepiece in the house and they don’t look like me or like Sheila. It was all so long ago. My favourite of ‘em is the one where she’s hitched up her dress to show off her blue garter – somethin old, somethin new, somethin borrowed somethin blue – and you can see the whole crook and stretch of her leg… beautiful.
She’s a bit thick about the middle these days and her sunken tits sag and her legs have lost their shape. I ain’t no god’s gift myself, so we rub along ok. But then today and I was just on my way to work mindin my own beeswax, and this car drew up and a lass inside put one leg out of the window. Well, it stopped me short, and I don’t mind admittin that.
Then another leg, and she climbed out the window of the car and her skirt was rucked up about her middle and I could see the whole of what she’d got and what she’d got was past perfect. She apologized and explained that the door was stuck fast on her car and the window was her only way in or out. I said she had nothin to apologise for and I made so bold as to remark on her legs, sayin she had the most beautiful legs I ever saw.
Well, one thing led to another and I didn’t make it to work that day. We went for coffee first and then we got a room in a hotel and she made me feel like I was twenty all over again. Three times we did it and when she was laid back and catchin her breath I couldn’t stop strokin her legs.
I felt real bad afterwards and I took flowers home for Sheila and she asked me what I’d been doing for her to get flowers for no reason and she laughed thinkin she was makin a joke. Shit, I felt bad – feel bad still.
The guys at work wanted to know where I’d been. I swore ‘em to secrecy and then they said I was makin it up when I told ‘em. All the same, they made me tell ‘em again, all the details and I added some bits about her ass and her tits just to keep ‘em sweet. For the next few weeks they kept winkin at me and makin lewd gestures and they showed me the pictures of girls in the paper, askin me if the girl I’d fucked looked anythin like the girl on page three with her tits out.
‘When you gonna get me flowers again?’ Sheila says and each time she says it I get her flowers and I feel like shit all over.