.what they called “garçonne” here. Leonora was more conservative and had chosen a tweed skirt and a white blouse. And now men with men, women wit... women, all was so permissive in Paris. It was also common in London where Leonora lived, but it was still happening behind closed doors. The two women had met in the Louvre art school some years ago and had remained friends, actually more than friends at times, but nothing serious since they were both attracted to lesbians and gay men. They were both. When I scooted around to sit sideways, hugging him around the neck and kissing him on the cheek as I did, his hand landed on my thigh, just below the hem of my skirt. It felt warm and strong as his fingers gently stroked the inner flesh of my thigh, and I was aware of that familiar tingle in my pussy place.His hand, seemingly of its own volition, eventually wandered up to the point where his fingers lightly caressed the crotch of my panties, which I am sure were damp, if not wet, by now. I. More

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