"Come and sit down, miss." "Over here." "No, over here." "Next to me." Kirstie was confused. There seemed to be such an eager, cheerful crowd of men. She had never been the centre of so much attention of so many men so much older than herself. She was used to the boys at school. As the daughter of one of the town's prominent businessmen, she was used to being treated with a certain respect.She looked around for people from her group. What few there were in the bar where equally besieged. She tried to head for one of them. The crush of Africans was thick. She could feel them pressing against her. Hands seemed everywhere. She tried to avoid them but whenever she turned hands seemed to accidentally touch, or not so accidentally touch.To brush her bottom, her waist, her breasts, her bare legs, even! She pushed hard, but it was no good, the press was too thick. She turned back to the bar, resting her drink and gathered herself.Africans were all around her. Is this not what she had wanted?. After several minutes watching, Jean looked back toward me, sort of glanced down at her rucked up skirt, and then looked directly at me and smiled. All done in a flash, but I knew exactly what the game was. Jean knew full well her stockings were showing and wanted me to enjoy them, as she twisted back round, her left hand reached behind her and pulled the hem of her skirt further up her full thighs. Revealing much more thigh above her stockings, but also the taught white suspender strap and broad chrome metal clip, straining at the stocking top. With my right hand, I reached forward and cupped Jeans soft milky left thigh and didnt dare move, I expected her to move away but she did not. After what seemed like ages, I started to stroke the backs of her thighs and stockings, Jean continued chatting with my Mum and did not respond to my feeling her. I pulled on the pleated skirt and was easily able to position it so I could see Jeans full white satin panties, the skirt just tucked in.
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