In summer time she would wear very short tight low cut flimsy dresses with open light footwear, in winter short skirts white blouses, always unbottone... to the bra which gave a glimpse of her small cleavage, black high heels and nylon clad legs. I often wondered if the nylon was that of a pair of tights or that of stockings held up with suspenders. Stockings and suspenders were for me at the age of 18 a thing of pure fantisy, no girls my age ever wore them and I often fantasised what it would be. “Don’t go yet,” she begged. She liked how messy his hair was, an unruly mop of dark brown hair.“Nature’s calling,” he said with a smile, bending to kiss her lips softly before rising.“You’re not much good as a cuddler!” she yelled at his disappearing back.“You’re not either. And you’re a quilt thief!” echoed back to her.Quilt thief? Really? No way! She wasn’t a cover hog.IN THE BATHROOM, I wondered if Sia had seen my partial erection. It was unavoidable once I understood where my hand was;. More

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