It was Lemmy's turn to make breakfast and as usual he'd done it in style, his mother, Elizabeth showed her appreciation, 'you should do it every day, it's that good.'
'Flattery will get you nowhere in this case,' he replied, what have you got planned for this morning?'
'I'm going to sort out some clothes, I've been dressing far too frumpy, I took the job of deacon far too seriously.'
'You can say that again, you know something?' He finished filling the dishwasher, if anyone had said that I would find you sexually attractive I would have thought them mad, but, and I've got to hand it to you, you do have a strong sexual presence, dressing elegant and sexy can only enhance it, let's face it you used to dress to attract.'
She gave "pretend" puzzled frown; I think there's a compliment in there somewhere, I'm just not sure.'
'Anyway, I'll be in the staff conference room, concentrating on my college work, come and see me if you're bored, I've no particular time-table.'
'I've not got very much to do; what time do you want a break and I'll bring you a coffee.'
'An hour and a half should be fine,' he stood and picked up his laptop, 'look forward to seeing you then.'
She smiled, 'and you' her reply.
Ninety minutes later she brought him his coffee, he looked up and saw she'd cut one of her long skirts short, it had gone from below the knee to above the knee.
She posed for him, turning sideways, then the back, each time turning her head to see his response 'what do you think, not too short is it?'
'Hmm, I wouldn't recommend that you go to church in it.'
'No chance,' she smiled, 'I've got to hem it, so it'll be far too short to wear anywhere but in our house. What do you think, really, I mean, don't just try and be nice.'
'You could wear it every day of the week as far as I'm concerned,' this seemed to ease her anxiety.
'I'm going to send off the daily report,' she explained, he knew this was a safeguard in case anything happened to them, the nearest small township was five miles away. It had a filling station and shop, a well-stocked shop, however, but unable to aid them if help was needed,
She took her laptop and climbed onto the small stage; it was where the manager stood to make announcements. Lemmy went back to work, it was only when he looked up sipping his coffee that he saw she was wearing stockings and a garter belt, her crossed legs gave him an uninterrupted view of her stocking top and the purple garter-belt with the strap, clipped to the stocking welt. Plus, a good expanse of white thigh.
She appeared to be engrossed in her daily report, but suddenly spoke, 'like what you see?'
He laughed in response, 'that's more than elegance,' he assured her, 'where did you get that from, I know you used to have that gear, cos it was hung up around the bathroom at home.'
'When we were looking for birth control pills I found lots of stuff, especially in the lost property office, and there's a shop, I found the keys and had a look inside, it was when you were building the "Fucking Machine" as you so crudely put it.'
'You haven't seen it, and anyway, don't be so dismissive, it's a brilliant work of engineering,' I'll have you know.'
'I'll see, maybe.'
Maybe was becoming Lemmy's favourite word, it didn't mean NO! In fact, the way she said it, it could almost mean YES!
Lemmy was on cloud nine, she resumed her daily report and he continued looking up her skirt, until 'that's me finished, how about a sandwich and a beer.'
Lemmy leapt at the chance, eagerly making his way to the kitchen, he poured two beers and she made them sandwiches. After a small but pleasant meal, he asked 'what are you doing next?'
'I was going to hem this skirt; it should take me about thirty minutes.'
'Is there anyway, I can help?'
She looked thoughtful, he held his breath, 'you can help me pin up the hem.'
'What does that involve?'
'Come with me and you can find out,' and so saying, she took him by the hand and into a small workshop, it had a sowing machine with cottons and pins with coloured plastic heads, also a low table which initially had Lemmy puzzled as to its use.
But then she promptly stepped up and stood on it, 'sit on the stool, I'm going to turn the hem up by about one inch, I want you to place the pins so the hem stays in place, but the points must come through onto the outside, I don't want you damaging my stockings so keep your eyes on the job, not up my skirt.'
Easier said than done, 'I want your eyes level with the hem, it must be below the stocking welt,' she lifted her skirt enough to show the welt, it thinned out where it was grasped by the garter clip, 'you understand?'
He gulped and gasped out an okay, and a nod of the head.
He didn't see the smile on her face, enjoying her power over him.
Regardless of her warnings, he didn't have any difficulty seeing up her skirt, she had lilac-coloured panties on, which complemented her purple garter belt, 'are stockings all the same length?'
'Oh, I don't know,' she pondered this awhile, 'I'm glad you thought of that, they're probably not, anyway, let's carry on as we are.' and with that, she continued to turn up the skirt hem while he faithfully placed the pins, safely and in the correct places in accordance with her instructions.
He had moments when she was checking his handiwork to take a good look at her suspenders, connecting the garter belt to the stocking tops, he noticed the small pieces of ribbon and then the adjustment clips. 'I think I've figured it out, the belt's suspender straps allow you to adjust the length depending on the length of the stockings.'
'She looked down, 'I knew you'd work it out, eventually, despite the distractions,' she was smiling, in good spirits. After each section of hem, she had to rotate. He sat on the stool, she had started at the front and now had her back to him, he was tempted to lift her skirt but sank down instead and had a cheeky look, her cheeks were full and round with no excess fat, just very shapely.
'You don't wear thongs,' he made it sound like a question, and was surprised by the answer.
'Have a look and see for yourself.'
An invite too good to refuse, and accordingly lifted her skirt, not quite up to her waist but close enough. He feasted his eyes on her femininity.
'Ahem,' he looked up, 'can I have my hem back please?'
'If you insist,' and handed it up to her, up to now she had been leaning down and setting the hem in situ.