Outdoor Love With Village Bhabhi

I guess Trevor saw where my attention had gone to because his words petered out and he looked down at his wife’s hand and where it was resting.It was almost comical; the reaction of two guys when Sally realised that we had gone quiet and looked to see what we were up to. Trevor and I in unison, swung back to face each other, speaking at the same time in an effort to hide or interest. An observer would have thought it farcical and I admit to having a smirk spreading across my face. I also forgave him the occasional glance up Jenni’s skirt to see her twat through the slit of the body stocking and the proximity of Sally’s fingers. I glanced at Jenni who just smiled at me with a twinkle in her eye.Eventually, we got to Charing Cross and got on the same train home. The seating arrangement was as before. Jenni and Sally seemed to have hit it off; a sneak glance from time to time had them touching each other in ways that seemed beyond what could be considered just friendly.I heard myself. ‘It is a boy. It’s a boy in girl’s clothes.’ Fascinated, Miranda grinned. ‘Hm, a girl-boy. That’s interesting.’ She immediately leapt to her feet and began to examine him. Closing up behind him she began to pet him like a kitten, revelling in the freedom to run her hands over his shoulders and down his hips. ‘Nice and slender. Very dainty.’ The old woman looked on indulgently as her granddaughter stood back and eyed up the length of Fifi’s legs, trying to judge how high the skirt would go before the gusset of his pants would be revealed. Taking her grandmother’s cane she tucked the tip under the hem of Fifi’s frock and hoisted it up to expose his underwear – tiny pink panties with a ruffled front panel. She stepped back again, but only a pace, and she never took her eyes off Fifi. His stocking-clad legs were bared for virtually their entire length, the pale pink plumpness of his knicker-gusset just visible between the very tops of his thighs where a suggestion of delicate lace.
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