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Shifting Focus
© 2003 by Julius



Frank had always said he was a tits man. That day his self-image got a little derailed.

The two of them sat in armchairs, facing each other at the party. Their hostess Angie had introduced them.

She was called Ginny. Ginny's legs were something else! Ankles to armpits things or so they seemed.

He noticed her breasts, that's for sure, Frank never missed doing his Boobs Appraisal, never. But from the moment she sat opposite him, it was her legs! Frank was a great eye to eye man. Years of boob watching trained you, he was sure. A guy could look his fill but when her eyes went for yours? ... well, yours had to be up and ready, never, never late.

But somehow he wasn't doing too well with Ginny. At least twice his eyes had come up from her thighs to find hers waiting, yes waiting.

Frank got it figured of course, it was a distance problem. Thighs to eyes was at least twice the mileage of tits to peepers.

But she didn't seem to mind. Didn't go all prim and proper and squirmy on him. How could she know of his usual preferences? If she did, ... well, ... if she did she'd realise that this switch from tits to legs by Frank The Boobs Guy was the greatest compliment a girl could be paid!

'Oh her legs!' So long, so slim. Slim but still well fleshed. Of course, the urge was always there to give her great tits a visual carress but he always came back DOWN. Frank assumed a girl as well equipped as Ginny would wear a "full set" as he called it; stockings, garter belt and panties.

Tit man he might be, but Frank knew about leg wear and pussy wear. Tit upholstery was THE thing but a girl has to walk, right? And she has to decorate the walking equipment. Well, Ginny would do it properly, he just knew. The stockings were black with wide, deep, lacy tops, Frank got that at first glimpse. The garters were harder to spot, but during one of her leg crossings, he'd caught a glimpse of a garter. Once that was confirmed he could detect their outlines along her thighs under the cling of the dark blue skirt. The garters were black too.

Frank would have bet black panties on Ginny or even no panties at all. It was a long wait. Her hair was dark, dark brown so he knew her bush would be just as dark. Would he see the shimmer of black panties or the shadow of a brunette furred pussy? Somehow a shaved Ginny just wasn't an option.

Finally she dropped a pretzel and leaned to pick it up off the carpet. The cleavage nearly beat him, Frank's tit-gazers were drawn but he fought it off and there! ... well damn it! high up between the whiteness of the thighs, high above the stocking tops: WHITE! White panties! That was the second time her eyes had caught his coming up!

She smiled. She knew! Knew he'd been crotch watching. Frank of the Tit-Eyes, caught crotch watching! A second time!

But they'd been so tiny and so very white. They almost shone from deep in the cave of the dark skirt. And those thighs! Stocking tops to panties, miles of white thigh flesh.

When she got to her feet and said quietly, "Little girl's room," he was struck again by her height and poise and the way those legs moved on four-inch heels. He caught the scent of her as her skirt hem swept passed his nose. Perfume? Some subtle trace yes, but it was the high-thigh scent of a well warmed woman that caught him in the groin. His firmness had become a killer erection as her muskiness found his nostrils. As she walked away he tried to get his cock straight and comfortable. Frank had never been so neglectful of a girl's tits as he'd been that night!

He did a little praying then, praying she'd come back and sit opposite him again. Frank had visited that bathroom already this evening and he pictured her squatting sweetly. All knees and sweetness, panties just below those nyloned knees, white panties, her long white thighs, her skirt hiked. Did she pee with her eyes closed? He somehow knew she did. He closed his eyes, his tit-judging eyes, and tried to be with her.

When he opened them she was back again.

Smiling, "Miss me?"

"Yes I did!" he said emphatically.

Frank got his eyes up to hers again and held them there by force of will. She laughed, a little giggle really. "You have wonderful eyes, do you know that?" she told him.

He knew that of course. They were the greatest tits eyes in the world and right now they were training to be thigh eyes too. But he needed practice. Had to practice with the upward flick, he knew that.

Ginny was about to do some magic on Frank but he didn't know that. Frank didn't even know what colour her bra was! Now there was a first for Frank!

She sipped her wine and let her head fall back and closed her eyes. Well nearly closed them! She kept them just slitted the tiniest bit. She could see Frank plainly through her long lashes. 'There went those eyes!!' She made a pretend yawn, 'Yes, up they came!' She parted her knees slightly, she had him! He was looking now. She walked her feet apart, heels, toes, heels, toes, didn't want to look too unladylike!

Her knees parted a little more. The pale hint of white thigh. Somebody moved behind Frank, they'd been standing, shading the big lamp in the corner. Suddenly the light shone over his shoulder, lighting Ginny's darkness. It was some sort of divine intervention he supposed. One of those moments that makes you into a believer. Her legs parted some more. "Oh fuck!" said Frank silently. The white had gone, thighs met in dark fur. She was bare-assed! Bare pussied he corrected!

Too late! He glanced up, her eyes locked with his. Frank knew now how slow he was!!

She could feel the pressure of her scrunched up panties, a damp presence down between her breasts. She beckoned with a finger. He leaned forward, dreading the dismissal of Titsman Frank.

"Angie said you were a tits man." she said softly.

She offered him her hand, "Take me home Frank."

He helped her to her feet. The scent of her again as her skirt swirled! Stronger now.

Her lips came close to his ear, "I got a sweet ass too!"

© 2003 Julius. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.


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