Serena held a petticoat over his head and it dropped onto his bra cups ina silky bodice, spreading outwards in paper nylon stiffness from hislower rib.... He tightened his fists to prevent a shiver of embarrassment:the skirt of his petticoat flared from well above his waist but was only12 or 14 inches deep. What kind of childish little skirt was he going tobe put into?His blouse came next, in cream satin, with puffball sleeves at eachshoulder which Serena fastened at the outside of the cuff. He didn't want to end it too soon.With his other hand, he brushed aside Violet's hair and caressed her cheek. He pushed again, and Violet moaned loudly, as though she had trouble taking his size. Encouraged, John Smith thrust and thrust again, every time eliciting a louder, breathier moan.'Yes, yes! Faster!'Violet was building up to the finale of her performance. She couldn't just scream at the top of her lungs from the beginning. No. This was a question of slowly building up tension.Each time. More

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