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She was comely of face and shapely of figure with long tresses of Golden Red hair. Her breasts were full and heavy with sensual promise. Her bottom was the plumpest and most delectable of all the young serving wenches. Many the young lad that desired a glimpse of her cuny to see if it was covered with the same exciting tinted golden red bush.Prissy was doomed to relieve her yearnings with her own long, delicate fingers in her bed by herself. She whimpered and tossed many a nite trying to reach her special spot and the liquidy release that make her smile.One busy nite into the tavern strode a young master.He was fair of skin, fair of face, and fair of silky textured hair. No beard, no scars, no defects had he. The maids were all a twitter, their bosoms were lowered, their tresses primped nicely. Even a swing to the hip was to naught for the handsome young stranger.When Prissy lay close, the young man grabbed lustily at her never touched ass. The look on her face was most delightful. At. “Muuum; stop; I need to put my skirt on.”“What? Oh yeah,” my mother said and stopped walking.As I quickly put my skirt on I heard my mother say, “I don’t know why you bother; you never seem to have the damn thing on at home.”“Mum,” I replied, “that’s different, we’re out in public and people are watching.”As I fastened the skirt I looked around, and yes, people were watching; and I liked it. Well my pussy did, it got wet.My mum then took me to a big supermarket.“They’re bound to have some in here;” she said, “and they’ll be cheaper. We should have come here first.”They did sell dark blue skirts, well stretch tube ones, a bit like my oldest surviving non-school skirt. Mum selected one for me, looked round and couldn’t see the changing rooms so she told me to get my skirt off.“What, out here? There are hundreds of people all around. We’ll get thrown out again.” I said.“Not if you get a move on girl.”I repeated the same exercise and yes, the skirt did fit me. With it pulled up to my hips.
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