I ogled the lush curves of her buttocks and the bit of crack peeking from the top of her panties. When she stood up I reacted and looked away, but not for long. I was drawn back to the gap in the curtain. The woman stood erect, fluffing her straight black hair as it bounced on her shoulders. And then she stared into the mirror as she smoothed her shirt. My eyes dropped to her crotch.I said earlier that I was not a breast man. I've always been intrigued by the crotch area, and seeing even a glimpse of panties under a girl's skirt was a major turn-on. Maybe it's because it's the area a woman would most carefully protect from being seen. So the puffiness of her tight panties covering her pussy was a real turn-on. My eyes were drawn to it like a paperclip to a magnet. I even leaned forward to be sure that I saw a few dark hairs poking out from the leg band.A part of me realized I had been staring for a long time so I glanced up. Our eyes locked. There was no doubt she was watching me. Well, so much for my resolve. Then it happened. He felt a hand on his ass. The hand then squeezed. Mark just stared straight ahead, and couldn’t see the person groping him. The hand moved very slowly across the denim fabric until discovering flesh. It then paused, as if not comprehending. The hand then continued across the bare skin and under the remaining fabric. It lingered for a few moments and softly caressed the exposed flesh, as if excited by the unexpected discovery. The hand increased its movement as it rubbed, hard, across the buns faster and faster. It repeatedly squeezed the mounds of flesh. The hand paused again. Mark then felt a finger move slowly, tentatively between his cheeks, as if still not fully comprehending its good fortune. It rubbed the fur which highlights this very private space, a contrast to the smooth skin adjacent. As Mark made no motion indicating displeasure – indeed, he couldn’t move at all – the finger continued while another hand started rubbing.
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