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Since you won't believe me, I won't tell you that this is a true story and that the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent... As is usually the way, the wedding ceremony was an absolute bore. My wife?s cousin, having finally persuaded her unfortunate fiancé to put a ring on her finger, had done everything possible to make sure her moment in the spotlight lasted as long as possible. My boredom grew by the minute as the production grew ever more elaborate, and pretty soon I had stopped paying attention altogether. My eyes wandered across the rest of the congregation?there were certainly plenty of attractive women here to admire. They were, of course, all dressed up very nicely; hair and make-up just so, outfits carefully selected. Competing with each other, and with the bride, without doing so too obviously. They all wanted to look good today, they all wanted their share of the attention, they all wanted compliments. And why not? Good for them. Most of them had few enough excuses to make such an effort, and I, for one, was most appreciative. Of course, my appreciation would remain unspoken, but still it was there. I have to admit that my wife Jennifer looked really good too, and I had told her so as we left the hotel earlier. She?s lost a lot of weight in the last year, and was grateful for an opportunity to show off her newly toned figure. Her dress was soberly coloured and patterned, not too ostentatious, but showed off a tantalising hint of cleavage, plenty of leg, and accentuated her natural curves. Best of all she was wearing, for the first time, the rose pink sandals I had bought for her the month before. They were stunning, very high, but the pretty colour and the delicate straps made them elegant rather than tarty. I love the way high heels make a woman look, and these not only made her look taller and longer legged, but also revealed her cute feet, pedicured the day before and looking perfect. I?d seen them on sale as I walked through a department store, and couldn?t resist. I knew she?d look great in them. Unfortunately, my wife doesn?t like to indulge my little shoe fetish ? ?You?re supposed to find me attractive, not the shoes,? she always complained when I asked her to wear sexy footwear. And so, they had remained in their box ever since. Until today. Mischievously, she had opened the box and strapped them on rather slowly and seductively this morning, while wearing only her bra and panties. She knew perfectly well she was turning me on by doing this. Better late than never, I?d thought to myself, silently hoping she?d treat me by keeping them on when we went to bed that evening. Not wanting to push the issue, I?d just told her that she looked very beautiful. She thanked me and told me I looked good too. We kissed, and smiled, and climbed into the car. And so, yes I was instinctively admiring the other women there (and, since I was in church, doing so with that delicious combination of guilt and exhilaration that Catholics feel when irresistibly drawn to doing something they know they shouldn?t). But it?s not like I was wishing I could be with any of them. Jennifer looked great to me, and frankly I couldn?t wait to get her back to the hotel and fuck her all night long. I made a mental note to tell her so once she?d had a glass or two of wine. It would turn her on. At least, I hoped it would. At long last, the wedding ended and we filed outside. The bride continued her preening ? posing for photographs, throwing the bouquet, air kissing every last member of the congregation and so on. Jennifer, indulging her new found interest in photography, took my camera from my shoulder and wandered off to get some shots (presumably for purposes of boring disinterested people silly at a later date). Meanwhile, I stood vacantly, glancing at my watch occasionally, enjoying the warmth of the sun and looking forward to a cold Escort Bahçelievler (http://bahcelievler.t2bro.net) beer at the reception. My Mother-In-Law, Janet, suddenly appeared at my side. She and her husband Greg were staying at the same hotel as Jennifer and I, the same place the reception was being held, so we?d all come together in my car for the service. Now, Janet is a walking contradiction. Having just turned fifty a month ago, she is still very attractive and exercises every day to maintain her shape. Her manner is flirtatious ? all batting eyelashes, girlish giggles and laying her hands on your arm or your chest to accentuate a point. And she dresses very nicely ? certainly not provocatively, but not demurely either. Fitted jackets over tight tops, knee length skirts, sheer nylons, patent leather shoes. That sort of thing. Sexy, but in a restrained way. (Confession time: I happen to know that Janet was not averse to wearing something more obviously sexy underneath those outfits. I?d been left at their house alone for an hour for reasons I forget, and found myself having a quick look in her underwear drawer. I found nothing outrageous, of course, but plenty of silk and satin and lace in black and red and purple. Designed for seduction rather than comfort, certainly.) And yet, despite all that, she is very straight-laced in a lot of ways. Deeply religious, a pillar of the community. She visits the elderly. She arranges flowers in church. She gasps, actually gasps, when she hears anybody use a swear word. She literally leaves the room if she is watching a movie and a sex scene begins. She wears a crucifix around her neck, and rubs it gently when confused or stressed. I watch her do this sometimes, and think about the contents of her underwear drawer, and I can?t quite align the two. A walking contradiction, and here she was beside me. We exchanged the usual pleasantries. The bride looks beautiful, we said (she didn?t). The weather is glorious, we said (it was). We were looking forward to dinner, we said (we were). ?And Jennifer?s looking so great these days, isn?t she?? asked Janet. ?She really is.? I agreed. ?It?s a great outfit too. I love those shoes she?s wearing! They?re gorgeous, and what an unusual colour.? ?Yes, they?re great.? I replied ? a little offhand, as if I?d not really noticed. The last thing I needed was an embarrassing conversation about my predilection for sexy footwear. ?You men are so lucky,? she went on, ?not having to totter about in silly shoes all the time. I mean look, they?re hardly practical are they?? She indicated her own feet. She too was in heels, in this case black sandals over bare feet. She often wore heeled shoes, but I?d never seen her in anything quite so high before. And here she was inviting me to have a good long look?I wasn?t about to pass up the opportunity. Her feet looked great now I thought about it, soft smooth skin, cute little toes, her toenails perfectly painted in a dark red. It seems strange to say in retrospect, but this was genuinely the first time I?d felt aroused looking at my Mother-in-Law. She is indisputably attractive; pretty face, large green eyes with an intriguing sparkle in them, small, pert breasts and shapely legs. She is quite short, but perfectly proportioned. I?d just never really thought of her that way. Even my explorations of her lingerie were out of bored curiosity rather than lascivious desire. She was, after all, my Mother-In-Law, and one is not supposed to think such things. But, as I looked at her legs and feet, here I was?and I was most definitely thinking such things. ??not that he notices?? Janet was still talking. I realised I?d been staring at her shoes and feet for rather a long time, and hadn?t been listening to a word she said. ?Sorry, not that who notices?? I asked. ?Greg, of course. I always try to look nice, and Bahçeşehir escort (http://bahcesehir.t2bro.net) he never even notices. He says women look silly trying to walk in heels. Honestly, would he prefer me to wear wellies?? ?I think they look great. Your shoes I mean. I mean, I think you look great. In them.? She looked up, surprised at the stammered compliment. I wondered for a second if I?d gone too far somehow, if my sudden attraction to her had become too obvious. She broke into a wide smile. ?Thank you, Steve. That is so sweet of you to say. You?ve quite made my day.? ?You?re welcome.? I replied, simply, smiling back. Our eyes met, each gazing silently at the other. It probably only lasted a second or two, but it felt meaningful, as if we were assessing the other, maybe searching for an answer to an unspoken question, maybe trying to reassure each other. Something. Janet dropped her gaze first, looking a little flustered. ?Anyway?yes?anyway, yes her shoes look great. I wonder where she got them,? she spluttered. ?Oh I can tell you that, I bought them. She didn?t even like them that much at first, but I thought they would look good.? ?Ah so it?s you who has the great taste in shoes, is it? Perhaps you should take me shopping one day, eh? Be my own fashion consultant.? God the thought of shoe shopping with my Mother-In-Law was suddenly about the sexiest thing I could imagine. Finding all sorts of sexy styles for her to wear, and watching her sliding them on and off her pretty feet. Maybe helping her try them, caressing her ankle. Just a momentary image of this in my head made my cock begin to stiffen, I could feel it growing. I told myself to snap out of it. It was just a silly fantasy and I had to stop being so easily turned on, or I?d embarrass myself. I tried and failed to think of a response that neither discounted the possibility, nor sounded too openly flirtatious. ?Sure,? said quietly and hesitantly, was the pathetic best I could come up with. Janet looked at me again, a little quizzically, and then broke back into her beautiful smile. ?Come on you,? she said, gently laying her hand on my arm, ?looks like they?re almost done here. Let?s round up the others and go get a drink.? ?Good idea,? I replied, ?let?s do that.? Having found my wife and her father, we all walked back to the car together. Jennifer and I hand in hand, Janet and Greg walking ahead of us. And the whole time, my eyes were glued to Janet, the curve of her hips, the way her dress flattered the contours over the small of her back and her arse, how toned and tanned her legs looked, her slender ankles and feet as she walked confidently in the high stiletto heels. Time and again I told myself to think of something else. That this wasn?t going to happen and thinking about it did nobody any good. Yet I couldn?t tear my eyes away. Back at the hotel, the reception was only a little more entertaining than the wedding itself. I was at a table with some terribly dull people, and their irritating children. They were friends of the groom, and no more attractive or charming than he was himself. Jennifer sensed my irritation and gave apologetic smiles every so often. I did my best to keep the conversation going, but it was hard work all the way. Perhaps fortunately, my in-laws were placed at a different table, somewhere behind me, and I could neither see nor hear them. My earlier arousal faded slowly, and the thought of it seemed odd in retrospect. I couldn?t quite believe how turned on Janet had made me, and I was sure it would never happen again. I permitted myself a slight smile at the thought of it, earning a quizzical look from Jennifer. I just said I would explain later?which, of course, I didn?t have the slightest intention of doing. Then, after the meal, the interminable speeches. I was considering myself lucky that at least I was staying Bakırköy escort bayan (http://bakirkoy.t2bro.net) in this hotel, didn?t have to drive, and could at least enjoy a few drinks to make the evening go a bit more easily. Finally, by around six o clock, we were excused from our tables and could go and relax a bit in the bar while the hotel set up the room for the evening?s disco. I found a comfortable sofa, Jennifer plonked herself beside me and we were soon joined by her Uncle and his two teenage sons. They were much, much better company; I was laughing and talking more, relaxing with a drink in my hand and feeling hugely relieved to have survived the worst parts of the day. I caught a glimpse of Janet, talking animatedly with her sister, a glass of champagne in hand. Strange as the feeling had been, remote as it now seemed, my arousal had certainly been real. A shadow of it remained. A flicker. She did look really good; my eyes were still drawn to her, tracing over her body, imagining how it looked under the dress, how it would feel to run my fingers over it, my tongue over it. ??is that ok, Steve?? This was Jennifer. Once again I?d been caught out staring at Janet and not paying attention to what was being said. ?Sorry, babe, what was that?? ?I need to change...these shoes are killing me, I can?t possibly dance in them, and I need a less low cut top too, otherwise I?ll be popping out all over if I get carried away jumping around. You know what I?m like.? My face obviously gave away my disappointment, and I got a conciliatory smile in return. She leant in close and whispered, ?Aww I?m sorry?if you?re good I can put them back on later, eh? When we go upstairs?? That sounded promising, and I kissed her on the lips. ?Of course?sure, you go ahead and change. I might grab a quick shower myself in a bit, put on something a bit cooler.? ?Alright sweetie?you want to come up with me or stay here for now?? ?You go ahead, I?ll keep your Uncle Gordon company. See you in a bit.? She kissed me and excused herself. I watched her go and, as she left the room, I felt my gaze move instinctively back to Janet. Janet, who was looking directly back at me. Who was walking over to me. Who was now sitting beside me on the sofa, crossing her legs, slowly and gently rotating her ankles so her feet brushed the air tantalisingly close to my knee. My earlier arousal flooded back, stronger than ever. She wasn?t talking to me, wasn?t looking at me, she was talking to her brother and nephews. But something in her body language made me feel she was communicating something to me. A softness in her pose, the way she held her body, how closely she?d sat to me, how she positioned her legs and feet. Flirting with me. She was flirting with me, without saying a word. Did she even know that?s what she was doing? I wasn?t sure. Maybe this was all in my head again, an overactive imagination, an overactive libido. Be careful, I reminded myself. Be very careful. I tried to remain casual, taking part in the conversation, laughing along with their jokes, even as I felt myself inch slowly closer to her, by tiny degrees. Trying to look relaxed, I?d shuffle slightly in my seat, repositioning myself to be more comfortable?but really, really I was trying to move half an inch closer. I was flirting back. Did she know that too? Of course the peculiarly wonderful thing about the situation was there was no fear of getting caught. If my wife came back and found me as cosy and close as this on a sofa with any other woman, there would be questions asked, accusations made. But this was her mother; this was my mother in law. Of course there was nothing flirtatious there. Any such thoughts would be laughed away as soon as they entered the mind. And, sure enough, my wife did come back a few minutes later. And, far from objecting to me sitting so close to her mother, she even gave a satisfied smile when she saw us. ?How lovely to see you two getting along so well,? was the unspoken message. Jennifer sat on the sofa too, but not beside me, at the other end, leaving Janet in the middle, beside me, closer than ever. Touching each other. Our hips and upper thighs pressed together. She crossed her legs over the other way and...