I glanced to my side at her as we walked up the deserted street. The wind gusted catching her blonde hair and her face was momentarily revealed in full. God, she looked hot. And without even trying particularly hard to be either.
I found it a unique talent of hers, the way she could turn me on simply by wearing normal everyday outfits. To be fair, these weren't exactly her every day clothes seeing as she'd been dressed up for a Christening service and party but skirt, blouse, jacket and boots? Hardly uncommon on the streets are they?
The street was quiet so you could clearly hear the heels of her leather boots click on the concrete path as we walked towards the railway station to head back home. Given that it was mid-January we'd been lucky. The weather could have been much worse than this but still it was cold with the temperature dropping away quickly as it began to get dark. It was surely coming but there was no frost on the ground just yet.
The wife was snuggled up within in a black woollen coat with a purple, pink and white striped scarf wrapped around her neck; and purple leather gloves to keep her from the winter chill.
Now taken as I was was with those leather gloves and the mental images they conjured up of the experienced hands within them at work on my cock, it was really what was going underneath her coat that, in sharp contrast to the chill, was getting me all hot and bothered.
I had been a proud man when she slowly, deliberately slowly you might even say, made her way downstairs earlier that morning with an incredibly sexy black leather skirt and shiny black and white zebra stripe blouse on. Sizzling!
Below her skirt she had patterned black stockings with black patent leather boots completing the look. It was yet another of those moments where suddenly I wished we weren't going out at all.
It was a big day and she looked for my approval "Not too much?"
I was almost salivating at the sighting of her and I gushed with praise as how sensational she looked "Wow. Just. Fucking. Wow".
"Language! Remember you are going to church later" she half-heartedly attempted to scold me. But she was beaming, her face wide and happy. She knew she looked good today and was delighted to have the compliments she sought.
The wife had worked so hard in the months previous, attending the gym regularly, going to Zumba classes and watching her food as she strived to change her figure.
More than just me was impressed with the change and the wife caught more than a few people's attention at the Christening and the party afterwards attracting a score of compliments about her figure or her outfit or both. Modestly she batted them off but I knew she was thrilled.
This was what the hard word had all been for, the Christening with so many of her friends and old colleagues from a former workplace. She was determined to be a different person from the one that left in trying circumstances eighteen months before. And she had nailed it.
I glanced across the pavement at her again but this time was caught in the act.
"What?"
Ofcourse she knew fine well what. "Have I told you how sexy you look today?"
"Yes.......this would be about the eighth time I believe". She stared straight ahead trying not to smile. Then after a few paces glanced back "And like I told you this morning. Good things come to those who wait".
I tutted. "But I mean you look really, really sexy".
She laughed, smiled and shook her head but said nothing and looked straight ahead once more as we continued to walk towards the train station.
For a few seconds silence as we walked then I piped up again... "Teasing me like that, wearing a leather skirt in a church. I mean a church of all...".
"....Oh for fuck's sake" she cut me off sounding more than a little irritated before immediately adopting a more conciliatory tone "You'll be home soon enough dirty boy. Think about the ironing or the washing up you'll be doing when you get home rather than pumping me. Because that's exactly what you'll be doing if you don't give it a rest".
Her point was made.
We were exchanging chatter about the day past as we finally came within a few feet of the entrance to the station. We were both laughing, remembering a rather outlandish outfit one of her old colleagues Joan was wearing when the station PA system blasted into life "We are sorry to announce that due to operational difficulties the 1555 train to Glasgow has been cancelled" prompting a string of expletives from me, which were almost immediately repeated when the information screen flashed up next train 1655.
"We're probably going to miss our connecting train home now too" I hissed. "Knew we should have just taken the fucking car".
By now it was completely dark, getting colder still and we had a decision to make. Neither of us much fancied the prospect of an hours wait at an empty train station in the back of beyond but then a twenty minute walk back to the dying embers of the party we'd just come from, only to have to walk almost immediately straight back to the station was hardly a realistic alternative either. In effect we had no option but to wait.
