Shortening Her Skirts

Young wife Libby has been asked to shorten her work skirts. It's upon the request of her boss but it's not compulsory of course:

Libby was fiddling with my t-shirt. She peered up. "Well, what did you mean just then, about the guys at work?"

"Oh that." I felt my face flush. "Just that I know what they're like, and I know, like, with the stairs 'n' that, and them perving at girls."

"Yes. And?" Libby pressed, looking down again. She glanced back up. "Is everything okay with that?" Her blush rose too. "With my short skirts, I mean?"

I swallowed hard. "Well, it's up to you to dress how you feel comfortable. It's not for me to say, or for them either, as long as you wear the uniform, right?"

"Yeah." Libby nodded a little. "I'm kind of proud of my legs after working so hard at the gym. It's nice to be able to wear a short skirt again."

"Exactly! That's what I reckon too, baby. You look great. I'm proud of ya too!"

"Hmm, proud to show me off with the guys at work, hey? Is that what you meant?"

"Yeah, I guess." My face heated again. "It would be hard for them not to notice, I suppose." I gulped. "Hard for them to look away at all."

Libby swallowed hard too. She grimaced a little. "They haven't been looking away, Colin."