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Again Sean; I am so sorry. Please accept my apology.”“I do accept it, of course.” Scarlett smiled for the first time since I had arrived as she tiptoed up to kiss me. Then she took my hand and led me through the house. I knew that it was part of the same large development as the house my parents had bought. This was the first major growth spurt that Boyertown had experienced in the 1970’s. Sandra had told me that the original owners had made several improvements over the years—double glazed windows and new vinyl siding, and a new roof. I stepped out the family room door and walked down to the brick patio.The original owner had paid plenty to create this oasis in the back yard. The patio was, according to Sandra, fifteen feet by twenty, with a wide island of arborvitae, rhododendrons, and other evergreen shrubs in addition to several flowering dogwoods shielding the patio from the rest of the yard. It really was an idyllic situation.I greeted Sal with a handshake and Sandra. I didnt think to much at first as it was super crowded & the person probably did not even know what they were leaning on. But then the hand started inching over & cupping my arse cheeks throuh my school skirt, I tried to move away but there was just no room to move, I tried to look around to give the person a filthy look but I could not even do that. The fingers dropped below my skirt & started to inch there way up my thighs, I wanted to scream but thought I would look like a histerical idiot.I tried to edge away but again there was no room I just got pushed back by the crowd onto the mystery hand that had now found its way under the elastic of my white panties.I hand no idea who was doing this to me, was it a creep from school, was it a sexy bisexual woman heading home from work in a suit, was it a dirty old man after a sick jollie, all I know is the hand felt firm, the fingers now gently rubbing my clit were thick & strong. My intial shock started to turn to mixed emotions, no one.
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She has a penchant for that sort of dress which allows one to see what she had for breakfast. She is endowed with a substantial set of bra fillers and she is disinclined to conceal them from their admiring public. She sees them as a sort of advert for the other pleasures she has to offer. However, as Mr Braithwaite, Mum’s solicitor said, ‘Time and place, Cassandra.' She told him to go fuck himself and that she hoped the old bag would get life.’ ‘Not a woman to mince her words.’ ‘Indeed not. However, I digress. I have today been interviewed for a position.’ ‘A position?’ I asked, my serious face glued in position. Her language always cracked me up and I had to make every effort not to offend. ‘Indeed, and I am grateful you avoided a cheap innuendo in view of my choice of the word “position.” As you are aware my current employment is somewhat, shall we say, precarious.’ To describe her work, as runner to a virtually unemployable local artist, as precarious was a bit like saying that.

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