Suzanne feels a woman's hands on her hips from behind...

As she was thinking about what this last sentence implied, Suzanne felt the hands of Mrs Gordon on her hips, then her evening dress behind her, brushin on her back. Mr Gordon smiled...

• Why don't you stay a moment more with us, Suzanne, he asked...

Suzanne was confused, she didn't know what to reply. She was looking at Mr Gordon who now stood very close to her, lowering his face...

• Let us guide you, sweetheart... (this was a whisepr in her ear, from Mrs Gordon, who finished this sentence with a kiss in her neck)

Suzanne didn't know what to do, she was a bit scared. Curious. Disoriented. Awkward. her body was tensed. She tried to articulate some sentence, some question. But nothin came. She felt Mrs Gordon hands caressing her sides, liftin a bit her tank top. She was lost, completely, not sure about what to do... This was so strange. But not bad in fact. She never had a woman's hands on her like that, but she liked the feeling. She closed her eyes, trying to brush away that strange thing who can only be an hallucination.

But the hands reaching her bra were real, and she shivered as she felt those swift hands on the lace, cupping her tits and caressing them through the fabric...