Smiling, she walked over and stood in front of me."Like what you see, baby?" she asked, putting a hand under either breast and bouncing them gently wi...h her palms. Then, squeezing slightly, she ran her thumbs down the tops, catching the nipples between thumb and forefinger and pulling on them. "Oooh," she said, "I'm in the mood myself. You're my first one tonight."Andrea dropped her hands to her thighs and then ran them up to either side of her mound, pressed inward, and dragged her fingers. Of course, women do wear trousers - but these are often nothinglike men's trousers: tight-fitting and designed to accentuate thefeminine shape, particularly in the crotch area. Men generally never wearskirts. And those who wear kilts insist that they are not skirts.And wearing skirts of less than full length involves revealing at leastsome leg. And if you are going to "show a leg" (another nauticalreference), you might be concerned about whether it is hairy or not. Orwhether it might look. The first time I can really remember though was when I was 14 and at high school. I was walking around the back of the school golf course to get to the rugby field when I heard voices coming from the nearby shed. Curious as to who was dodging out of rugby and hoping to join them I started walking to the door when I realised it was the hushed voices of a boy and a girl, the sound of childish giggling and sloppy wet kisses stopping me short of barging right in on them. Curiously I listened as. Said she was 23. I wondered why she liked stories about grandfathers fucking. Did she have fantasies about her grandfather?My eyes snapped to the front door, but it was obviously not her. She had sent me pictures so I would recognize her. They showed a young, vibrant person with bright, questing eyes. We had begun an exchange of letters through the e-mail system. Do you like this? Would you do that? What turns you on? Can we meet somewhere? That was the big one. It required a huge leap of.