A hand was on my ass. I don’t know who theowner of the hand was but it was definitely a hand and it was definitely onmy ass. In the press of peo...le I hadn’t noticed this very intimatepressure. Maybe it was an accident, maybe there was nowhere else for thehand to go.I tried to move a little, enough for the owner of the hand to reposition toa less intrusive location but it didn’t. It followed me as if glued to mylong black skirt. Then it squeezed. Yes, definite squeezing, I was. I put on a very small pair of shorts that only my Pat had seen me in before. No panties. I topped it off with a bikini top that only just covered my ample bust. What was I thinking?Bill was cutting the grass, so I started on the flower beds that run round the lawn, kneeling on the ground to reach the weeds, knowing my bum would be sticking up for Bill's benefit, the tight shorts cutting into me as I reached as far as I could to weed the borders.Yes, I was prick-teasing this old man, whatever. More

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