Fast Forward 6 Months

Head to Toe

Stephen arrived home from work carrying a bouquet of assorted flowers. It was dark outside, about 7 pm, damp and chilly. He entered the front door, bent down to take off his shoes, put them in the shoe cabinet, and put on his house shoes.

"That feels good," he thought, "My feet are killing me!"

Betty walked into the lounge and hugged him. He straightened up, kissed her, and handed her the flowers.

"These are lovely! Thank you, Dear. I'll put them in water in a minute." She smelled them, "You are sweet!"

"Mmmmm…You smell wonderful; what is that? New perfume?" he amorously nuzzled her neck.

"Some new scent they're trying to shift at work. It's called 'Illumination'. I spritzed a bit on to try it," she explained

"I like it, I like it! Buy some. What are you cooking?" he sniffed.

"Just soup and bread."

"I must be really hungry. I swear, I smelled that all the way from the bus stop! The smell got stronger the closer to home I walked. I was thinking 'Oh, I hope that's coming from my house!' It is good to be home," he smiled.

"I made tea. Do you want a cuppa now or after you shower?"

"After, thank you."

After Dinner

They sat together on the couch in the lounge. He was reading the paper, glasses on. She sat sideways on the other end of the couch, legs stretched, watching him. He looked over and noticed her staring. He smiled, took off his glasses, folded his paper, and set it down.

"How was your day, Dear?" he asked, flirting.

"Long. My feet hurt."

He turned, leaned toward her, and slid his hands up her stocking. He smiled impishly, raised one eyebrow, and unhooked her suspenders. He peeled her stocking off and tossed it on the back of the couch. He put her foot on his lap. He began rubbing her foot with both hands, firmly pressing his thumbs into the arch. She closed her eyes, bit her lower lip, curled her toes, and let out a low moan.

"Relax," he whispered softly.

He focused intently on his task. She watched him work, watched his eyes. He looked up at her.

"How's that?" he purred, looking at her from beneath his eyebrows.

"Lovely," she murmured breathily.

He did the same with the other stocking, slowly peeling it off, eyeing her legs. He caught a glimpse of the sexy underwear he picked out for her at Grace Brothers and did a double take.

"You didn't wear those to work, did you?" he asked jealously, eyebrows shooting up.

"No. I changed into them while you were in the shower."

"Oh, good. I don't want anyone else looking at them!"

He gently scratched the sole of her foot, "Do you have some nail polish?"

"What for?" she asked suspiciously.

"I want to paint your toenails for you," he said softly, smiling, and raising his eyebrows invitingly.

"You are full of surprises! In public you are stodgy and tight-lipped and a proper Englishman. But behind closed doors, you are much different. You are sweet and sensitive and loving."

"Thank you for taking the time to find that out. I spent 15 years in an emotionless, sexless and affectionless marriage. I like all those things. A lot. And often!"

Betty got up, left the lounge, and returned with a bottle of lacquer and a pack of cotton wool. She put her foot up in his lap. He stuffed cotton wool

between her toes and shook the bottle. He concentrated as he daintily brushed the bright red color onto her nails. He gently blew them dry. She watched

him as he lovingly handled her feet. He looked up, pursed his lips at her and winked.