“I could pose like that.” I really wanted to know which picture she was looking at.As we got out, I told Toni she looked like her grannies sister, and she chased me round the house three times before catching me in the orchard. What now? I leant in and kissed her “Ooops, sorry. I shouldn’t have done that”“No, especially if I look like I’m ninety” We walked back arm in arm. The others looked, were they smirking, smiling or what? Women are another country.“We’ll need to wash these I suppose ... Dave, do you think you can fix the washing machine?” said Fiona. Clearly none of them relished washing grannies unmentionables (that’s what she called them) by hand.“I’ll take a look first thing tomorrow. I honestly don’t know; but I will try. I could do with washing some stuff too. Do you need a hand? No? Then I’ll grab a shower if that’s okay”“Don’t forget to lock it, you don’t want a gang of girls to rush in and have their wicked way with you do you?” Now, they knew, and I knew that they knew,. She was on the Pill, of course, but they are never 100%. One night, however, when she started her routine, I surprised her by closing my books and putting on my coat."That sounds like a good idea," I said, not really knowing what she had in mind. "I'm going with you."We drove downtown, and stopped briefly in a swinger's bar, but the place was dead, so we went on down to 1st Ave, and into an adult theater. A crowd of men was clustered in a corner back by the loge seats, but we ignored them and moved to the center section of the theater and before sitting Susan tugged her blouse from her skirt. She turned away from me. "Unhook me," she said. I reached up under her blouse and unhooked her bra.We sat down. In that magical way women have, she wiggled around and soon extracted her bra from her blouse sleeve and handed it to me. Then she lifted her skirt and raising up, slid her panties down her lean thighs. I bent over to retrieve them before they fell on the filthy floor.Then she leaned.
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