She slipped her long lean legs into a pair of black silk thigh-highs as if she had an audience.
First the right foot followed by the left.
One leg at a time, each foot arched and extended with a slow slide of silk up and up, ending a little bit higher than mid-thigh.
Her legs were stupid long, not that she was complaining.
She didn’t get the big-boobs gene but more than made up for it with her legs.
She padded softly across the room clad in thigh highs and nothing else. Catching sight of her reflection in her peripheral view she resisted the urge to look directly into the mirror.
Opening her dresser drawer, the one that had all her pretties in it, she felt her heart begin to quicken.
Her blue eyes sparkled with delight at the array of color and cloth within reach.
Silks and satins and the softest of cotton. Lace, ribbons, delicate little bows mixed in with soft leather fasteners.
Camisoles and pretty delicate panties mixed with sultry sexy thongs and delicious dainty garters, fabrics and textures tossed together.
Velvets soft and leather even softer.
Her own personal Victoria’s Secret, her own little secret.
Hidden away under her usual jeans and boots, beneath her hard shell, she let herself feel girlie.
She wasn’t a girlie-girl, never was. She felt more comfortable hanging with the guys while their wives sat together and bragged about their about kids and traded recipes.
It’s just the way it was.
She wavered between a sexy red-lace thong and a pretty pink pair of soft panties with matching camisole and went with the red.
They looked better with the thigh-highs she had on.
Stepping into the red-lace she looked around making sure everything she needed was in place, then finally looked in the mirror.
Unconsciously smiling that half-grin he loved she set the timer on the camera.