Never done anything like this before
Might be fun!
---
I picked up the hairbrush and walked to the mirror. As I watched myself in the full length mirror I noted the surreal sense as I smiled at myself almost as though I were somebody else, as though it was somebody else who was looking back at me, but it was me, there I was, ready for another day of work. Hardly excited by the prospect, but it paid the bills, not ideal, not the best reason for getting up in the morning, but it had to do for now.
As I checked myself out in the full length mirror I straightened the black skirt I had on, checking the lines, making sure it looked good, reaching just above my knees, hidden below were a pair of stockings, gripping my upper thighs and my favourite pink silk knickers, seductive and hidden from view, only I knew they were there and I knew they were so sheer that people had trouble telling whether I was wearing anything at all. The sensation of knowing that men, and some women, observed me, and tried to work out what, if anything hid below was a continual turn on for me. Sometimes, I did not, sometimes; when I felt particularly naughty I went without knickers, on occasion even having removed them at work, titillating myself if nobody else.
But today, today they were on. I checked my blouse, white cotton, looked good, hugged my contours and I pretended it hid the slinky pink bra beneath.
My hair was a mess though. As it hung lifeless over my right shoulder cascading down my right breast. I started to stroke the brush through it, tilting my head to one side as I did so, gazing into the reflection as I did so, staring into my own eyes, almost mesmerised as I stroked the hair.
Behind me I heard him stirring, still in bed, still naked, probably still horny. The bottle and a half of wine had been lovely and an excellent prelude to the sex. We had kept going for what seemed like hours until falling asleep, wrapped up in one another, hot and sweaty and drifting into a post coital sleep.
---
I picked up the hairbrush and walked to the mirror. As I watched myself in the full length mirror I noted the surreal sense as I smiled at myself almost as though I were somebody else, as though it was somebody else who was looking back at me, but it was me, there I was, ready for another day of work. Hardly excited by the prospect, but it paid the bills, not ideal, not the best reason for getting up in the morning, but it had to do for now.
As I checked myself out in the full length mirror I straightened the black skirt I had on, checking the lines, making sure it looked good, reaching just above my knees, hidden below were a pair of stockings, gripping my upper thighs and my favourite pink silk knickers, seductive and hidden from view, only I knew they were there and I knew they were so sheer that people had trouble telling whether I was wearing anything at all. The sensation of knowing that men, and some women, observed me, and tried to work out what, if anything hid below was a continual turn on for me. Sometimes, I did not, sometimes; when I felt particularly naughty I went without knickers, on occasion even having removed them at work, titillating myself if nobody else.
But today, today they were on. I checked my blouse, white cotton, looked good, hugged my contours and I pretended it hid the slinky pink bra beneath.
My hair was a mess though. As it hung lifeless over my right shoulder cascading down my right breast. I started to stroke the brush through it, tilting my head to one side as I did so, gazing into the reflection as I did so, staring into my own eyes, almost mesmerised as I stroked the hair.
Behind me I heard him stirring, still in bed, still naked, probably still horny. The bottle and a half of wine had been lovely and an excellent prelude to the sex. We had kept going for what seemed like hours until falling asleep, wrapped up in one another, hot and sweaty and drifting into a post coital sleep.