It was not the first time I saw a woman in stockings; I've often seen my sisters as they busied themselves getting dressed - but it was the first time...in such an encounter. I didn't stare but turned back around, feeling the flush of my cheeks and the hardening of my penis. When I turned back the knees were wider apart, and I imagined I could see all the way to my Aunt's panties. I sat staring for some time, while my aunt crossed then uncrossed her legs twice. I discovered then that I was a leg. That triggered a gust of catty laughter.I winced internally at the reference to the slender-trunked, puff-ball topped trees out of Dr. Seuss. But what could I do? I am what I am, tall and slender, and my hair is my hair. Even under the best of circumstances it has a mind of its own. After a summer of sun and chlorine it was bleached almost white, with the texture of straw. Maybe if it were long I could do something with it, but it was cheaper, and infinitely more practical for swimming, to keep. More

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