I knew I was early and then tried to make a decision on where to set, counter or booth. If I sat at the counter I could jump up to greet her as she wa...ked into the place, but if seated in the booth I might not be able to get out of the thing gracefully. Yet if I sat at the counter there were a few people there and I really wasn’t feeling like small talk with the locals, not that I was a snob or anything. But I knew if we started chatting the subject of why a middle aged Anglo with a Midwestern. Somehow, even through the light gauze, she thought she could see the inner folds of her labia! She had somehow opened up with all the anticipation. Plus, her wetness had made the material even more transparent. Finally, she allowed her right hand to slowly slide down, searching for the moist folds she knew were there. Through the leg band it moved. First the touch, then the muted gasp. It felt good. Really good. Her fingers traced the waiting lips, her hips moving back a little as if trying to. And beauty it was, Ginny had to admit. At first, Ginny was frightened of expressing such an opinion. It wasn’t right to admit that another woman was ‘beautiful’. What she wanted was another man like Brian, if she could ever be bothered with a relationship ever again (and sometimes she was not sure that she did). As the Tunisian days passed by and she saw more of this woman, with her neatly square-cut bob, her elegant small-rimmed spectacles and her sparkling, toothy smile, Ginny’s judgment of. Touching her thru her panties, John observed in a lewd manner, “Hmmm…really wet. Must have been doing something you really liked.”Alexis was totally embarrassed/humiliated and red-faced, but John was right; her body was betraying her. Now he handed her the Hitachi, &Alexis found herself raising her hips to remove the wet panties.John stopped her trying to squirm out of her panties, saying, “Use that wand, woman, and you keep those panties on until you are told different...now go.”Alexis was.