Stockings

When Jamie walked into his home through the backdoor, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his wife had returned from her shopping trip. He also surprised to find not only her basket full, but a small, brown packaged clutched to her chest in her other hand.

"I didn't hear you come in," Jamie walked around the table towards her and grabbed the basket, "I would have come to help sooner."

"I'm fine," she reached up to kiss him tenderly as she let him take her basket, "it's not heavy and they didn't have much today. How is the fence looking?"

"New, clean and freshly painted," he noticed the package again and nodded towards it, "new book?"

Abigail hesitated to answer and when he looked back at her, she stuck her chin out defiantly, though he wasn't sure why.

"No, it's...private."

"Private?" Jamie's curiosity got the better of him, "so I'm...not to know what it is?"

"I shan't tell and you're not to go poking around in my personal business!"

Despite her brave and slightly odd behaviour, he saw a strange...pinkness over her cheeks. As though she was embarrassed about what she bought.

When she went up the stairs, he silently followed a few seconds after and decided to sneak a little peek.

He watched her as she quickly stuck and hid the parcel in their trunk, covering it over with a shirt. But she had no need to do this. If it was her business, Jamie would not pry. But it didn't stop him teasing her about it for days on end.

He slightly enjoyed the red blush that swept over her when he prodded her for information about it. The quick change in subject. The rise in her voice if he tried to guess what it was. So far, he had deduced it wasn't a book of any kind, nor ribbons or even a birthday present for him. But it WAS an item of clothing. He just didn't know what kind, because as soon as he'd guessed that, she'd thrown a pillow at him and he'd gotten distracted when he wrestled her on the bed.

The thought had clean flew out of his head the next day and he would probably have not remembered to question her on it anymore, had he not left the house without his money pouch on the way to town. He doubled back and remembering Abigail's habit for doing the laundry, did not announce himself back home.

He'd walked up the stairs, gone to his bedroom door...and found it open, with an occupant inside in a very unusual position. With her want to change the furniture around, Abigail had pushed the bed up against the opposite wall by the headboard and the bottom was facing the door. She was laying on her back on the bed, with her skirts pulled to her lips and her legs in the air. Jamie watched, quietly and very amused as she wiggled her toes, crossed her ankles over the other and rubbed her thighs together. It didn't escape his notice that she was, in fact, admiring the stockings she was wearing. Stockings that were clean and never been worn before. At least, not around him.

"Well then," Jamie decided to announce his presence by stepping a little loudly on the creaking floorboard. Abigail startled, dropped her legs and quickly hurried to sit herself up. She swivelled around, sat at an awkward angle and pulled her skirts down over her legs.

"I-I thought you were out?!" She gulped and took deep breaths to steady her beating heart.

Like a predator approaching his prey, Jamie walked until he was at the end of the bed and stared down at her, a large smile on his face.

"I was. And now I'm back and wondering what my wife is hiding from me under all these skirts," he sat down by her, but she attempted to shuffle away, blushing and shaking her head.

"Nothing!" She even sounded guilty.

"Oh?" Just before she could shuffle herself all the way to the top of the bed, Jamie reached out and grabbed her hips through her skirts.

She shrieked when he pulled her roughly back to him and toppled over until her back hit the bed again. She swatted at his hands when they pulled at the fabric of her skirt, but it was too late.

His hands pushed up her skirts and landed on her legs. She froze as his grip changed and slowly, he moved his fingers up and down.

"Well, well, well," he smiled and lifted her legs so they were over his lap. He looked away from her and she just knew he had discovered her secret.

"It's nothing, really-" she tried to protest but bit her lip when he turned back to her with an arched brow.

"These are VERY fine stockings."

Abigail pouted.

"Oh...fine, you bloody caught me!" She folded her arms across her chest and tried not to look embarrassed, "go ahead and laugh and get it over with."

"Laugh? Why would I laugh?" Jamie was genuinely wondering what on earth made her think he'd make fun of her for a simple pair of stockings.

"Well...it would be an 'I told you so'...remember?" By the look on his face, he obviously didn't remember, "I told you...I don't need all that pretty stuff. But," she trailed off and bit her lip, her embarrassment rising again.

"What?"

"I don't need it. But...that doesn't mean we can't treat ourselves once in a while. And I just-I just," she mumbled the last bit, though he heard her clear as day, "I really wanted some stockings like the ladies were talking about in the shop."

Jamie finally caught on. She thought he'd be mad at her for treating herself? Never. For him, he wanted her to spend all her money on only her. He, in fact, wanted to treat her more.

He leant forward and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don't feel guilty for a little luxury."

"They WERE a little expensive though. I spent all my dessert budget for the weekend on them."

"Hmm... Let me see."

Straightening back up, he shifted both her legs in his hands and raised them up. Abigail couldn't help but giggle when he gently manhandled them so they were both pressed against one shoulder and one arm. Each hand seemed to be conducting a quick inspection. One wrapped around her thigh and drew small circles with his nails, tickling her when he went over a certain spot. The other trailed up and down either of her shins.

"It's just the other ladies...they were saying how their stockings weren't really for them," Abigail blushed when he looked down at her and she could see the familiar flare of desire in his eyes, "one of them was very...blunt about how her husband feels about them. They said it was to stop them from getting bored."

Jamie could only arch his brow.

"So...how do you feel about them?" She pried, wanting to know if she had done the right thing in buying them.

Jamie's first response was to shift her legs again, this time placing both either side of his hips as he leaned forward again, this time, pressing himself down against her.

"Truthfully?"

As his hips pressed against hers, she gasped at the wonderful pressure, the sparks lighting up inside of her again at his close proximity.

"I prefer you without any clothes at all."

Before she could even laugh, his lips caught hers in a hungry kiss and it was all she could do to hold onto the sheets either side of her head, just letting him devour her.

She was surprised when he stopped and pulled away again, thinking he'd want to continue, but he now seemed terribly distracted.

"HOWEVER," his hand stroked over her thigh and to the top of her stockings before moving over her bare skin again, "I could make an exception for these.."

"Oh?"

He moved quickly and pulled her up and against him, his lips capturing hers as he shifted them about. He now sat on the bed, his legs over the side as Abigail straddled him and she wasn't about to complain one bit.

He pulled back again, both his hands rubbing and squeezing her thighs.

"Yes, but I'm going to need a completely unbiased opinion," he sighed, feigning frustration at his task, "well, there's only one thing for it, you'll have to remove your clothes."

He'd said it so deadpan, that Abigail couldn't help but laugh.

"Jamie!"

"No, I'm afraid I'll have to conduct a very good judgement and thorough inspection and the only way I'll know is if there's nothing else distracting me."

Despite seeing straight through his plan, Abigail decided to play along. Slowly, she crawled off of his lap and stood in between his legs. Slowly, she removed all her outer clothes, just enjoying watching his hungry gaze on her as he restrained himself from reaching out and touching her. She could tell, just by the way his hands splayed flat on the sheets.

When at last, she thought she was fit in just her stockings and tunic, she opened her hands out for inspection.

He shook his head.

"No darling, I'm afraid that will have to go also. It's imperative to the assessment."

Abigail pretended to look at him as though she were suspicious of his actions.

"I have a feeling you're not taking this very seriously."

"Oh, contraire, my lovely wife," he finally reached out and grabbed her shirt, pulling her closer to him, "this is the most serious judgement I've ever had to undertake."

She hid her inelegant snort by pulling the shirt out of his grip and tugging it off and over her head. She cast it aside with the rest of her clothes and looked down at him, suddenly feeling...incredibly hot.

"Well?"

"Hmm...give me your leg."

She obliged him again and carefully, he helped her raise it so her foot was planted next to his hip and her knee was bent. Despite suddenly feeling very exposed, he did miraculously keep his eyes on her leg. His hand smoothed over the fabric, up and down, around the back and side and even under her knee.

He actually made all the right noises for 'inspection'.

"Yes. I believe this is quite satisfactory."

"Oh? So your official opinion is?"

He reached out and instead of pulling her by her hips, he grabbed her wrists and urged her forward. She straddled his lap again, this time on her knees so his arms came about her waist and his chin could rest on the swell of one of her breasts.

"Whether you're clad in silk stockings, lace dresses or nothing at all," he pressed a tender kiss over her heart before he looked straight up at her, "you're worth it. Your worth in money is immeasurable. AND, regarding getting bored," his hands suddenly came to cup her buttocks and pulled her against him, "it will never happen."

As her arms wrapped around his neck and she looked down at him, she knew he was sincere in his words. Even though he could not know the future or how things would change, he truly believed he would never tired of her.

"Well... I'm glad you like the silk stockings. Shall we take them off now?" She asked innocently, but even before his hand came up to the back of her head to pull her into a kiss, she could tell what his reply would be.

"No, no...leave them on."