For one slow dance Sarah picked me up, spread my legs around her waist, and perched me on the dome of her skirt. I could feel the bump of her small pu...se in a pocket in the skirt. Like that we could kiss, and did. If anyone had seen us they might have thought my position ridiculous. It probably was. I didn’t care. I was close to the woman I loved, in her arms, and we were kissing. Anything else was irrelevant.After the dance, just as we left the lighted foyer to walk back to her flat, Sarah. I suppose holding the Cello there reminds me of my friends, it has become my lover, and sometimes I wish it had a penis, so I could mate properly with it, when I perform on stage in front of hundreds, after all, I never wear knickers, sitting in my white lacy frock, with my legs open wide, it's a girls fantasy, to let men look up my skirt, well the ones sitting in the front row, I am sure they appreciate to see my smooth fanny, curve under my bum, I know the thought thrills me that they. More

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