Her eyes went wide as saucers and she flushed bright red. "Oh my Lord!" she shrieked, clapping her wet hands against her skirt and then turning as if ...o bolt."Oh, please wait!" I pleaded, and she hesitated. "Here, don't worry about it, you can have them back. I just want to talk."She plucked them from my fingers, avoiding contact, and hurriedly pulled them up her legs. "I'm no dyke, you know," she protested as I saw a brief flash of skin above her thigh-highs. "And not every girl that works. ”I was getting caught up in her story and subconsciously or inadvertently had been massaging a little higher up on her legs than usual. Several times I had caught myself touching her breasts and nipples. She often liked her abdomen lightly rubbed and again I found my fingers inching down into her pubic hair. I flinched each time I did this and felt like I was going to run out of apologies before the session was over. She apparently liked what I did because she said, “Please stop apologizing. I. More

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