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To my surprise, and utter delight, both the Spandex and lighter nylon leotards were absent. Above her Victorian shoes and black calf length stockings Arlene’s legs were bare. With her feet spread apart, I had a clear view up her inner thighs all the way to her silk panties. When she dropped through the trap door and my hands grabbed for her legs, the silky smoothness of her moist skin slithered through my fingers a little too quickly. I had to tighten my grip to break her fall, and even then my left hand ended up clutching her right breast. After we collapsed onto the bean bag, she waited for me to untangle herself from her costume. When I came out from beneath the hem of her dress she was sitting up and grinning at me like a naughty elf. “That was the best yet,” she remarked, “although I hope the feel of my sweaty legs doesn’t disgust you too badly.” I was becoming used to her game by this time. Not only did I manage to avoid blushing, but I also came up with a more appropriate. We finished and grabbing an armful of towels we jiggled past him leaving him to rinse of alone. After a quick towel dry and a brushing, she had my hair looking nearly decent and we went down to the kitchen to make tea and get the snacks I had prepared from the fridge. After a few minutes we could hear him calling from upstairs, but ignored him. We heard him coming down the stairs and wrapped ourselves in towels, he was dripping wet, she had grabbed the towel I had put out for him on the way downstairs, she was horrible to him sometimes. I noticed his fat penis had now shrunk and was now a little nub almost hidden by his pubic hair. He must have been embarrassed by me staring and grabbing a towel disappeared into the living room. We wandered into the living room with the tea trays to find him dressed and sitting in one of the armchairs. I put a little side table next to his chair for his cup milk jug and sugar bowl, and left the rest for us on the coffee table by the sofa. We went.
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