This is a joint fic enterprise…..Jan offered to write it then decided to go on a round the world jaunt – hopefully to find Ruth! hugs Jan. So I said I would finish it for her. I hope I have done her original idea justice.

This is dedicated to Katie pea who is wavering about posting one of her fics. If lots and lots of you review this – and include a note to her about how much you want to read her fics, then maybe we can all blackmail her into it…..

Enjoy!

Thanks - betaqueen xx

Oh and thanks go to Andrea Corr – she would never have sung a song like this with her brother and sisters!

K is for Knickers

Tuesday

His eyes almost popped out of his head as she walked into the room.

"What do you think of these?" She asked casually, tipping her heel so she had a better view in the mirror of the new red shoes she had bought that evening.

It wasn't the shoes, however that caught his attention. Well, he supposed they added to the over all effect, and they certainly helped to elongate her legs. They looked lovely on her, but then he would have guessed if he'd asked any man, he would have received a similar answer. What was it about the sight of women in heels?

No, it wasn't primarily the shoes which had caught his attention.

His eyes traveled up her legs, one bent, giving him just a glimpse of the other behind it. Her thighs were smooth and unblemished and her skin pale. Her bottom was pert and covered only by the lacy red material of her French knickers. He carried on moving his gaze up her body, but found himself drawn back down to her bottom. The heels made it so perfect. He had seen many bottoms before, after all, he wasn't an unattractive man, but hers was different.

She turned in the mirror to get a better view of herself and caught him looking in the reflection, face full of desire. "What are you staring at? " She questioned, swinging around and putting her hands on her hips.

He gulped, caught in a state of arousal which he should have been able to control, especially when she had only asked for an opinion on the shoes. But she looked like a 1940's pin up model, stood there in the French knickers, bra and high heels, all in the vibrant shade of red he loved on her so much. And it was driving him crazy.

"I'm just admiring your body?" he managed to say, waiting for a rebuke.

"Oh, OK – that's allowed," she replied enigmatically, before sweeping back out of the room and leaving him to wonder about her meaning.

Friday

Harry was shattered. Wednesday had been the day from hell and it had taken the rest of the week for him to feel vaguely human again, having finally placated Juliet. He sighed, he hadn't even managed to see Ruth since Tuesday other than fleetingly at work, and she had left a few hours ago, leaving only a garbled message, which Jo had dutifully delivered. Maybe he would change, and pour himself a drink, and then ring her.

A knock at the door startled him, turning – he had only managed to get two feet down the hallway - he pulled it open to find Ruth stood on the doorstep, full length coat done up to her chin, and clutching a CD in her hand.

"Hi Harry" She said moving past him into the hall and thrusting the CD into his hand. "Go and pour yourself a drink, sit down and put this on. I'll be back in a minute," and with that she disappeared into the downstairs toilet leaving Harry lost for words, as he always seemed to be around her.

Shrugging out of his own coat, he wandered through to the kitchen and was soon ensconced in his favourite wing back chair, waiting for the first lines of whatever recording Ruth had seen fit to bring him. Work, book reading, music or rhyme he had no idea but was always prepared to listen to it, if Ruth deemed it to be important.

Hello boys I know you're watching me,
I think that I like it.
I'm so tired that I can barely see,
Come find where my light is.

Harry frowned, turning over the blank CD case in his hand, as the slightly husky and suggestive sounding voice of the female singer sang out clearly from his music system in the corner of the room.

Harry opened his mouth to call to Ruth and ask her what this was about, closed it promptly when he heard the door open and saw her shadow emerging around the corner, then dropped it open again as she slowly walked into the room.


See me walking down the avenue,
I look like a waitress.
But I don't serve anything you've ever tasted,
on a plate.

Ruth looked, well, he didn't want to acknowledge what she looked like, but she looked sublime nonetheless. Hot darts of heat felt like they were being fired at his groin, and he shifted uncomfortably to ease the pressure. It had been a long time, since something or someone had had that immediate an impact on his libido. But WOW!

Now I don't need smooth seduction.
I don't need a date.
I would take your complication,
I'll make you okay.

Harry took a reflexive gulp of the peaty smelling liquid he had, the glass still held in mid air, and then wished he hadn't as Ruth spun on the tip toes of the red high heels she had bought earlier in the week, giving him another view of her figure. He choked on the fiery drink, spluttering the whisky down his shirt.

"Oh dear me Harry, We might have to get you out of those damp clothes in a minute," Ruth spoke softly, twirling again for full effect.

What do you really want?
What do you dream about?

Ruth bent forward, giving him the most incredible view of her cleavage, a fingers breadth out of his reach, and licking her lips teasingly, invitingly. Then she straightened, pivoting to walk away from him.

Are you ready for?
Why do you do that?

Harry had seen the world, had been to a few, less than salubrious places in his time, and had enjoyed them, he could admit that. But nothing, nothing had affected him even remotely as much as the woman of his dreams, the love of his life was now doing as she strutted her stuff and sold her wares in the personal display she was putting on for him.

Harry shifted again, trying to create space in his chino's, though, when Ruth turned again and directed her gaze straight at his manhood, he knew it was a hopeless task.

The music trailed away, leaving Ruth in the middle of his living room, a blush creeping up her features as she became aware of herself again. Harry, noticing her confidence slipping away, reached over and calmly pressed the play button again, raising his eyebrow at her.

"I don't think I caught the true meaning of the song, you'd better start at the beginning again Ruth," he growled, suggestively.