Covered

Steven walked into the kitchen, nervous, feeling stupid. She was his wife, why should he be nervous just to talk to her. "You...you wanted to talk?" he asked.

She smiled, crossed her legs. Without meaning to, his eyes went to her hose covered legs as she surely knew they would. He eyed her calves, her thighs in the semi-opaque tights. He looked at her skirt, her sweater, her heels. Everything perfectly chosen to emphasize her femininity, her curves, everything she knew would tease him. And disappoint him. "Yes," she said.

He swallowed, cursed his reaction, knowing she was watching him, judging him. Knowing she watched his eyes, knowing he couldn't help but look at her, knowing he wished for more. But that was part of it. For him, she dressed pretty and feminine, but only to a degree. Hose, but not sheer. Sweaters and blouses, but muted colors. Heels, but closed toe. Everything was a tease, everything was to make him aware of what she didn't do, how she didn't dress.

Because she did the same for her boyfriend. Pretty and feminine. But for him, the hose were sheer. The hose were stockings. For him, the it was a low cut blouse, not a high-neck sweater. For him, it was ankle strap, open toed heels. 

For her husband, it was about tease and denial.

For her boyfriend, it was about displaying what he would enjoy later.

"What...what about?" Steven asked.

"The chore list while I'm gone," she said. "It's not small, you're going to have to focus, but you'll have from Friday afternoon through Sunday afternoon to work on it."

"I...I know," he said, still feeling angst that his wife was going to spend two days with her boyfriend. Two days and two nights.

"What?" she asked, seeing his eyes.

"N...nothing," he stammered.

"Would you rather I cover up?" she asked, knowing exactly how much she was teasing him.

"N...no," he said, "I...no."

"You only need say the word," she said, enjoying his longing gaze.