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I was about to doubt such disbelief. She had lovely eyes that were twinkling in the bright lights of the entry. She approached the hostess, but I rose and raised a hand in greeting. She was quick and bright enough to see and recognize that I was her escort for the evening, and she smiled a sweet glance at the hostess, then she turned and came to me. Such a lovely phrase, "she came to me." As she glided towards the table, truly glided, I took in her loveliness. As I said, her hair was raven black, and it was shaped like a pixie's to the nape of her soft, white neck. Her shoulders were aristocratic and were covered by a frock of shiny silk that clung to her body like honeysuckle clings to the garden wall, tightly and showily. Her breasts were proud and uplifted and rounded out the curves she displayed farther down at her huggable waist and suitably wide and luscious hips. I could not yet see what was bringing up the rear, but had little doubt that it would be soft, firm, and. . It felt so, so very nice but I stopped myself as it felt forbidden and wiped myself dry by dragging my knickers up. For weeks I'd look forward to that "after shower" peak of Caroline, but could never get near to seeing her again as she was by far my favourite, in my imagination anyway. For now I'd these thoughts out of my head.It was only a few weeks later on a Saturday that my parents had gone out that I happened to venture into the loft, for what I can't recall, but by chance I happened to stumble across my father’s pornos. I wasn’t sure what I'd found at first but carefully turning the pages of that most loved magazine I was captivated by the girls in it. Wet from that quick flick I retired and now sat in a secluded part in the back of the loft -knowing that if anyone came home it would take them a few minutes to find me, by which time I could stash the magazine. I instantly pulled up my skirt off but before undressing further but I wanted to gaze at all these girls some more in.
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