From Blushes 3 Choir Practice Watching the soft serge knickers slipping down from the cheeks of her pale young bottom, a fold detained momentarily between the full togetherness of her buttocks, the look of her smooth skin against white petticoat and navy knickers was like the clear purity of her voice when she sang. ‘Virgin’ was almost too dirty a word; ‘angelic’ might have been closer, especially when her bright, innocent eyes turned back over her shoulder as she reached out with her knickers held in her small hand, her fingernails beautifully clean, her fingers soft and faintly warm as they touched his. The chair in the vestry scraped mournfully across the tiles as he put her across it, long bare legs extended behind her, bottom positioned by chance so that the last of the evening sun struck down upon it via a square of ruby-tinted glass in one of the windows, bathing her buttocks with a glow which portended the similarly ...