The night dragged by, the TV was rubbish and I couldn't concentrate on anything anyway. The longer she was away the more likely that something would h...ppen I guessed. 11:15 and the door opened, my wife back from her 'date'. 'How did you get on?' I blurted out. She just beckoned me in the bedroom and told me sit on the edge of the bed. She removed her her sweater to reveal her sexy lacy bra. Did Steve get a look at it I thought, to remove it even. She slowly unbuttoned her jeans and slid them. "I hadn't really noticed her that night you picked her up and I had that Debbie bird." He looked into the fresh pint I'd bought him. "She wasn't in her tarty gear at her house, she was scrubbed and clean and looked like an angel, a 16 year old angel" he smiled to himself, "had she been 16 I would have proposed to her there and then."The poor old bugger had really got it bad. "What about Mandy, does she want to marry you?" I asked. "She's not yet 14; you've got over two years to go before you. It was a far different view than at home, where the mountains were a distant vision – most often blocked by buildings – and the snow was a dingy grey. He knew he could get an even better look if he took advantage of the slight discount the company had arranged on the slopes of the resort. The key word was slight, and he had never been on a pair of skis or a snowboard. That was something he didn’t want to try to learn in front of coworkers he would class as acquaintances rather than. He handed me a plastic bag."I had to guess at the sizes, but they should be close enough for now."I opened the bag and pulled out a pair of jeans, a pull over sweat shirt and a pair of generic tennis shoes. Standing up I pulled the jeans on beneath the robe and zipped them up. They were a little loose and a little long, but that was better than the alternative. The sweat shirt was marked extra-extra large. I shucked the robe off and pulled the shirt over my head. A bit snug, but good enough..