Tricia and I were very pleasantly surprised one Friday evening to receive a telephone call from a voice which we instantly recognised -- that of Michelle, whom we had met for two years running at the naturist campsite.
I say "we" because our telephone is usually left on a "hands free" mode, so that we can both talk at the same time to whoever is calling via a microphone and speaker rather than holding a hand-set.
As soon as her voice came through, therefore, Tricia and I looked at one another with some pleasure, as memories of our last meetings sprung to mind.
"Where are you?" we both asked, as Michelle's voice was coming through with a background hum.
"I am on a train," she said in her accented English. "I am on my way to meet you!"
Tricia and I looked at one another as we both smiled with some expectation. She was on her way to meet us!
"Yes," Michelle continued. "I have been sent by my University to an English University for one term as part of my course, as I am studying English Language for a degree. I told you when we last met that I was studying English, did I not?"
"You certainly did," we assured her. "But what a pleasant surprise this is," said Tricia. Whereabouts are you, and how far are you away from here?"
Michelle told us that she was actually about fifteen minutes away from our town, and that she could get a taxi, she hoped, when she reached the station.
"No way," we both told her. "We will come to meet you in our car," I said. "So look out for us."
Quickly I got the car out from the garage, and both Tricia and I drove to meet Michelle.
We were actually waiting on the platform as her train drew in, and were overjoyed to see her as she stepped off onto the platform, and then were actually amused when we noticed the length, or should say brevity, of her skirt. It could not have been more than ten or eleven inches deep from her waist, as more of her thigh was revealed than was hidden! In fact, an inch or so lower would have certainly revealed her choice of underwear!
She immediately saw us, and waved, then we saw her turn to a young man to speak to him, as he handed her something which she slipped into her skirt pocket.
Then, giving him a quick kiss she said something again and came running towards us, where after the usual continental peck on both cheeks she gave us both a fuller hug and kiss.
"Who was that?" I asked her, more out of curiosity than anything else, whereupon she laughed in her cheeky way which we both well remembered, as she told us that it was someone who had been sitting across the aisle in the train, and whom she had persistently noticed trying to peer up the hem of her skirt! "He must have thought that I had not noticed," she laughed again, "so I kept making moves which appeared accidental but ever so briefly, until we were almost here and I could feel the train slowing down. So I then leaned over towards him and mischievously said so that only he could overhear that if he gave me his telephone number I would open my legs briefly for him!"
"And that is why you saw him giving me his telephone number!" she laughed again.
"I hope you are decent under that skirt, then," chuckled Tricia.
"Oh, yes," said Michelle. "I am wearing 'la petite culotte' whatever that might be called in England."
"We call them briefs, or knickers, or sometime panties," explained Tricia, "unless they are very small in which case a thong or a g-string, perhaps."
During this time we had been walking towards the car, and had paused outside it whilst I was putting her small overnight case onto the back seat.
"But these are very small, n'est-ce-pas?" asked Michelle, as she brazenly raised the front of her diminutive skirt to show what amounted to little more than a triangular scrap of lace held in place by a fine string of elastic. It was so small, in fact, that her smoothly kept slit was partly on view above the wisp of lace, and was also so see-through that the rest of it was fairly visible.
Michelle seemed quite blasé as she displayed herself, although Tricia and I had seen what she had there (and had touched it and even more) on numerous occasions. But what now struck us was the fact that it was more than likely that her recent companion had seen more than just the material. Not that Michelle seemed to care. Neither had she ever seemed to care in the past!
Luckily the front seat was a bench seat, and so we all three sat on it as I climbed behind the wheel, and Michelle sat between me and Tricia.
Michelle, though, was very much the same Michelle whom I met for the first time some two or three years ago, when she had not only teased me into causing me to having an erection but had then succeeding in seducing me completely! And by this I mean that her hand immediately fell onto my lap where she began to tease my cock through my shorts!
"Stop it, Michelle!" I had to say. "Please, I'm trying to drive. There'll be plenty of time for that later on when we are home!"
Tricia saw the funny side of this, but in order to help me she grasped both of Michelle's hands and pulled them onto her lap as she leaned towards her for another kiss.
Michelle also saw the funny side, giggling as she and Tricia met lips in a far more intimate kiss than they had exchanged on the station platform.
I concentrated on driving, though, but I could not help keep looking in their direction as their hands began to seek and caress each other's more intimate regions.
Because of the disruption to our evening, though, we did not have a meal ready which could have also accommodated Michelle, so we called at a small restaurant where we had a short meal -- enough to put us on until next day, at least.
We then arrived home without any incident, and as Tricia showed Michelle the outlay of the house I put the car away, and then went into the lounge to pour out a welcome drink for her.
When they entered the room, though, Michelle, true to form, immediately dropped onto the chaise-longue, legs splayed apart, oblivious to the fact that the brevity of her skirt meant that her lacy g-string was on full view.
