Her behind suddenly felt huge to her in that position and she worried that the sight of it would repel him. Again she waited. Then, a sound: “Mmm.�... Then just the tips of his fingers… touching her lightly through the fabric of her white cotton panties… gradually sliding upward to become his entire hands… caressing her behind… molding the cheeks. Oh Christ, it felt so good. “Mmm.” In spite of everything Theresa smiled for a moment at the sound. Suddenly, on the exposed skin at the very tip of her. How are Satish & the kids?’ I blushed at her compliment and formally enquired after her family. ‘Oh, they are fine… Ah, here is my driver.’ She spotted a man carrying a placard with her name on it. Soon, her baggage came out and the driver loaded it onto a cart (those days, there was virtually no security, anybody could walk into the baggage delivery area). The driver led us to a white Ambassador car with tinted glasses, a ubiquitous symbol of power & privilege. It was parked just outside the. The cottages were very ‘old fashioned’, very dirty, and always smelt of that industrial bleach the council workmen used to throw about the place, almost like clockwork at 9.00 am every day. There was often a queue of men hanging around the outside of the place, waiting for the cleaners to do their daily chores, before making almost a dash for the troughs once the small decrepit building had been vacated by any officialdom.The whole floor space of the building was only about 30ft x 30ft. The. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Sitting in class waiting for the period to begin Sarah walks through the door and straight to the desk beside mine. “Hi Andrew” she says, trying to strike up a conversation as she sits down. Uninterested I simply nod my head upwards in her direction. “Are you going to the party this Friday?” She asks, either indifferent or oblivious to my disinterest in having a conversation with her. Rolling my eyes with my head down I nonetheless respond.
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