He didn’t use any subtlety. His hand glided up the back of my calf muscle and skimmed the tops of my thighs, just above my knee, before running back...down and taking a masterful, yet still gentle grip of my ankle. Then he slid the heels onto my dainty feet. He ran both his hands up my legs. A small, involuntary moan slipped from my mouth. He reached the lace tops on my thighs and I wondered if his hand would sneak higher. I wouldn’t have minded, but instead he gently pulled the dress down and. "I'm sorry. To be honest, I can't remember exactly what happened, I wasso off my head that night. I was angry and jealous, and I was trying, insome mad way, to get revenge for what I thought you had done. I amashamed to say it and it sounds so puerile now. I was so totally fuckedup with booze and self loathing that night, I lost sight of what wastruly important. It wasn't my finest moment and I feel so embarrassedabout how I behaved. So, no I didn't enjoy it. It did do something,though." What's. More

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