She Can't Think Of An Excuse

Sophie's mind raced for a reason, any reason, to not join Fred. Or at least, any reason that didn't involve revealing that she was half naked. Nothing came.

Slowly she let out a sigh. "Yes, of course," she muttered, feeling defeated and began to walk down the path towards Fred's front door.

Fred passed her, unlocking the door and ushering her inside with a call of "Mother, I'm home, and I've bought a visitor."

Sophie stepped through the door, and looked around at Fred's front room, a couple of arm chairs and a sofa all angled towards the TV in the room, which was fortunately empty, apart from her and Fred. The sudden realisation that she was standing in her neighbours front room naked from the waist down struck her for a moment.

"Oh, shoes," Fred said quickly, pulling off his own shoes in the doorway. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll go put the kettle on and check on Mother."

Sophie froze. She had no intention of bending over, but seemed locked into a perilous course of action now. She was able to breath a sigh of relief when Fred began to make his way across the front room towards the kitchen.

As soon as he wasn't looking she bent down, unlacing her trainers. If Fred turned around he'd be treated to the view of her shirt riding up completely, her bare pussy entirely exposed to the room. Sophie thanked her lucky stars that he didn't, and as soon as her shoes were off she quickly straightened up, smoothing down her shirt for as much cover as it would allow.

"Take a seat," Fred's voice called from the kitchen, "I'll bring tea in a moment."