Then I make room for my leg by sliding it higher up between his. To the naked eye, I appear to be regaining my footing in an attempt to escape, but his hand catches me high on my thigh, its large fingers curling around beneath. It's not exactly immodest, but he can probably guess that I'm not actually wearing anything under this dress.
Wide-eyed, I stare up at him. “William?”
He looks directly into my eyes as he slides his hand up my leg and over my hip and ass. "Lisa, you came to my house without underwear on. Why?"
“Um.” I am so nervous that I am clenching his T-shirt in my fist. My answer is always the same: "I have no idea."
A question: "You don't know?" There's a hint of mockery in his voice. He hooks me behind my knee and pulls my leg higher up around his waist, stroking his hand over my crotch and down the back of my thigh. When the breeze hits my pussy, I have to suppress a squeal of pain.