A zip. That unmistakable sound. A long zip. It was her dress. I recalled the memory of earlier, her sliding the dress on, wiggling her pert ass into t...e silky material then turning to me and asking if I would mind doing the zipper up.Was he undoing it or her? I wished it was me.A giggle then a whistle. I imagined him looking at her. Her womanly frame clothed in black lace, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, the bra holding her 36c tits, her long stockinged legs with matching pants. Your fingers play with the buckle for several seconds, teasing, before finally undoing the strap. You slowly run the back of your finger nail down my ankle and across my foot, I pull away instinctively, moaning and giggling a little. I feel the feather light touch of your hand slide up my leg, past my knee, up my thigh and brushes lightly over my pussy. You watch my leg quiver and I playfully bend my knee, closing my legs together. You smile and slide your hand softly and gently down my other. What do you want? Claire had looked at herself. Tousled red hair pinned into a severe bun, pale skin made paler through worry, a soft, curvaceous body hidden under sensible layers. She had moved her hands to her hips, felt their sensuous swell - how they used to roll and rise, making men grip them tight and beg for more. She had said in a broken voice, 'I want to be desired.' Then the mirror was rippling, as clear as glass, and Claire had seen the world behind it. A sunlit forest, a path. ’ I steeled myself and said, ‘How is Maggie?’ She gave a small smile and said, ‘She is fine, doing well’ I softly said, ‘That’s wonderful.’ I wanted to ask her a million questions, but I didn’t know where to start. I went silent. It was just about become awkward when Phyllis’ secretary came into the office and said in a nervous voice, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Dumont, but Nelson was just on the phone and he said he has Jason on the line from London and things aren’t going too good…’ Phyllis.
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