The hand descended onto my knee and touched the hem of my skirt. She admired my taste in clothes, she told me and I felt her hand slide up my stocking...d leg under my skirt. ‘I do like a femme who knows how to dress.’ Her finger stroked the top of my stocking. My legs parted and there was that smile again. The scotch had, I noted, gone, so I offered to buy her another. ‘You know what?’ she smiled, ‘Ernie has suggested we might care to take a drink in her flat.’ She removed the flat key from her. Of course, I was sitting there in the second pew with my “hard to miss” retinue of relations. There was Ma and Pa and Granny Moses dressed in their Sunday best and all my brothers and sisters fidgeting and squirming on the hard wooden planks. None of us young ones were dressed splendiferous like regular adults, but that was normal up our way. I was the only one of the girls that had her legs up high on the pew because I still had some sore spots on my bottom where Pa had gotten carried away. More

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