Southern Exposure
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Southern Exposure Part 2 free porn video
SOUTHERN EXPOSURE Part 2
Copyright Kristy Leigh 2003. All rights reserved.
3.
"Last one up has to kiss a pig!" Lisa yelled.
Squealing with laughter, the girls bolted over to the bars
and clambered up the rungs in a tangle of hands, feet and
elbows. Debbie claimed the first place by virtue of her
superior athletic abilities (within the year, she would win
bronze at the state gymnastics finals). Lisa and Jessie
tied in second, although neither had any immediate plans to
visit Farmer Gile's pig farm in the near future.
Once at the top, the three perched together gazing out
across O'Connell Park towards the centre of town. As young
children, the monkey bars had seemed infinitely tall and
steep, a vast, looming monolith overlooking all of
Ridgewick. Nowadays, the view was far less impressive,
encompassing only the football oval and the west bank of
the Bucknell River.
"Know who I saw holding hands with Suzy Catterson?" Debbie
asked, apropos of nothing in particular. Lisa cocked her
head to one side, face lighting up at the prospect of some
juicy, small-town gossip.
"Who?"
"Bobby Hilliard," Debbie replied nonchalantly. Lisa
wrinkled her face in disgust.
"Bobby HILLIARD? He's a GEEK!!"
"Yep. Saw them walking home together from the library
yesterday," Debbie reported with an air of quiet
satisfaction, "held hands all the way down Ridgewick Drive.
You know Bobby Hilliard, Jessie?"
Jessica shook her head; she didn't even know who Suzy
Catterson was. Nor did she care. Jessie's mind was
elsewhere. Her hands fumbled with the hem of her dress,
which she knew was going to ride up around her panties at
the earliest opportunity. It was one of those immutable
laws of nature: a little girl's skirt rose in direct
proportion to the proximity of her underwear. Her recent
adventure on the swings had proven that.
"He's this incredible GEEK," Lisa reiterated, figuring
Jessie hadn't heard her the first time, "I mean, he's like
THIRTEEN and he still trades POKEMON CARDS with his
friends." Presumably, his friends were all geeks too.
Jessie wasn't really listening. Her cheeks were still
burning like an Arizona sunrise. Her dress had turned into
a balloon, revealing everything she had on underneath: her
lean, tanned thighs, her dainty white underpants, her pouty
little belly-button. By some miracle, Lisa and Debbie
hadn't noticed, but the football guys certainly had. She
could see them out on the oval right now, passing the ball
from hand to hand and waiting for her to put on another
free show. How would she ever live it down?
"Bobby Hilliard comes down here sometimes," Debra
explained, cutting over Lisa's anti-nerd tirade, "he's the
dorky-looking kid who wears the Fedora."
"Oh yeah - Fedora Boy," Jessie nodded. She had no idea who
Debbie was talking about. She was having a great deal of
trouble following the conversation; all she could think
about was the way her dress had flown up over her waist a
few minutes before. Worse still, she knew how this
conversation was going to end. Sooner or later, Debbie
would grow tired of Lisa's inane chatter. She'd get
fidgety, grow restless, look for something else to do.
And here they were, sitting on the monkey bars.
"You know what ELSE he does?" Lisa steamrollered on, "he
sticks a straw up his nose and drinks strawberry milk
through it. I saw him do it one day in the lunch room!!"
Jessie started to zone out after that point, she had more
important things to consider. Yes, here they were, sitting
on the monkey bars, and Debbie was already looking bored
with her friend's mindless drivel. Any second now, she'd
lock her knees around one of the bars and swing herself
upside down. Lisa would follow almost immediately, still
jabbering nonsense. The two of them would hang there with
their ponytails trailing towards the ground -
and then it would be her turn.
Jessie's features flared the colour of a ripe raspberry. It
was going to happen again. She had no choice in the matter:
just like on the swing, there was nothing she could do to
protect her modesty. Her pretty white panties were going on
view once more: in a matter of moments, she would have to
drop between the bars, dangling by her knees six feet above
the grass. Her dress would turn inside out, drooping slowly
over her head. Jessica's pulse accelerated, a wave of
sultry heat swept through her tummy.
Meantime, the Bobby Hilliard controversy raged on. Debra
assumed the position of Devil's Advocate, arguing on behalf
of the accused (primarily to annoy Lisa who hated being
contradicted on any subject).
"He hasn't drunk milk through his nose since the second
grade," Debbie pointed out in condescending tones, "you'll
have to do better than that if you want to nominate him
dweeb of the year." She glanced in Jessie's direction,
rolling her eyes with a dismissive shake of her head -
another telltale sign she was losing interest in the
discussion.
Jessica lowered her gaze, trying to suppress a stream of
giggles welling up from her tummy. She couldn't help
herself; Debs was getting ready to launch herself through
the rungs. Jess could see it in her face; she was
considering the action at that very second. There would be
no last minute reprieve, no evading her just deserts.
Jessie's fate was sealed. Her flimsy white panties were
going on display whether she liked it or not.
(Why had Debbie opted for the monkey bars anyway? The
playground was full of slides, round-abouts and teeter-
toters. There was even a large wooden fortress - Fort
O'Connell, scene of countless Indian raids and massacres -
over by the Big Dipper. Plenty of girl-friendly equipment,
which didn't require the lifting of her skirt. It was
almost as her if friends were in on some intricate
conspiracy to reveal her knickers to heavens)
"Yeah, well, he LOOKS like a nerd," Lisa was saying, "he
wears black socks with white shoes. You know what THAT
means."
"What - he's colour blind?" Debra inquired complacently.
She straightened up and began swinging her feet back and
forth beneath her.
Jessica's heart leapt into her throat. Debs was preparing
to go head over tail, she recognised the signals. Jessie
cupped a hand over her mouth to conceal a naughty, impish
smile. She was feverish with excitement, molten silver
seemed to be pumping through her veins. The moment was fast
approaching. Light-headed with expectation, Jess waited for
her expose to begin. Again, the suspense was almost
unendurable.
"No - it MEANS he's a NERD!!" Lisa almost shouted in
frustration.
"Sure - black socks, white shoes and a Fedora," Debbie
replied placidly, "he must be a nerd."
"Oh, I give UP!"
"Yeah, quit while you're still behind," Debra agreed,
yawning in Lisa's face. Stretching like an adolescent
feline, she turned and looked over at Fort O'Connell, her
gaze settling thoughtfully on the Big Dipper.
Jessie saw a faint ray of hope: Debbie wanted to play on
the slippery-slide!
It was almost too good to be true. Her friend was going to
climb down off the bars and trot over to the other side of
the playground. Jessie's modesty was safe; there would be
no unveiling of the panties, no free show for the teeming
masses. The St Paddy's Football Brigade would have to wait
another day. Smoothing her hair back with a trembling hand,
Jessie exhaled a sigh of pure relief. Abject humiliation
had been averted by inches. Nothing could have been more
embarrassing than parading her undies before half the town.
Still, she couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed. She
had resigned herself to having her underpants shown off in
all their alabaster glory, had actually been looking
forward to it in the same hesitant, giggly way a little
girl looks forward to being tickled against her will. There
was a kind of reluctant delight involved in having your
unmentionables placed on public exhibition. Well, what's
done is done, as Aunt Cathy often said. The decision had
been made. Jessie started to relax, allowing her galloping
pulse-rate to return to its normal tempo.
Then, it happened.
Upfolding her legs without a word, Debbie leaned backwards
and hooked her knees over a cross-bar. Slipping lithely
through the grid, she swung herself upside down, holding
her cap in place with one hand. She glanced up towards her
friends, wordlessly inviting them to join her under the
scaffold.
(Oh NO!!)
A bolt of panic shot up Jessie's spine. How was she going
to get out of this?! Lisa was already shifting herself into
position, preparing to pitch over the side. It was so
unfair: both her friends were wearing jeans. No one was
going to see their underwear. Jessie had a vision of her
fresh white panties, sweet and innocent and painfully
feminine. How many of the boys were watching?
Face blazing maraschino red, she looked out across the
oval, where the game was still in progress. A few of the
football guys were staring in her direction, but most of
them were still chasing the ball about the field. On the
surface at least, the coast looked clear. Trouble was,
Jessie knew it was a trick; they were all biding their
time, waiting for the penny to drop. Every last one of
them!
What was she going to do? Her dress was too short to tuck
into the legs of her panties (which was what she normally
did) too light to stay up of its own accord. What on Earth
had she been thinking, wearing this thin, gossamer remnant
to the playground when she knew they'd be playing on the
monkey bars? Why hadn't she worn one of her tight denim
skirts? She only had about a hundred of them. She could
even have worn tights, it was certainly cold enough this
late in the year.
All that was beside the point now; Jessie was swiftly
running out of options. Lisa had just eased herself down
through the rungs. In a few seconds, she'd be expected to
follow, brief cotton sunfrock or no. She had no excuse, no
way to explain her dubious behaviour. Why would she
suddenly refuse to do something she'd done at least a
thousand times before? It was a classic no-win situation.
She really had no other choice.
No other choice at all.
Swallowing a deep, calming breath, Jessie hooked her knees
over a bar and slung down between her two friends. Her
dress fell away almost immediately, flipping inside out and
revealing her thighs and belly, all the way up to her tummy
button. She swung back and forth with her virginal white
panties flashing brightly in the late afternoon sunshine, a
rich carmine hue darkening her features. Her face betrayed
no other token of the arousal she felt, although she was
literally breathless with excitement.
Stay cool, she thought, moistening her lips. Just stay
cool.
The girls hung together in a gently undulating row, their
long hair streaming toward the earth. Three little bats in
a belfry, quiet as church mice. After a couple of seconds,
Debra turned to look at her lovely blond friend. Reaching
out with her left hand, she pinched Jessie hard on the
right bottom-cheek, just below the lacy trim of her panty.
Her fingers left an angry red mark in the tender flesh.
"Ow," Jess said, rubbing her bottom to show how much it
didn't hurt.
"You ought to wear jeans," Debbie commented mildly. Jessie
shook her head in reply, peering tranquilly off into space.
"No, I don't want to look like a boy."
"Well, it's better than showing off your UNDERPANTS to like
a MILLION people," Lisa said, oscillating slowly beside
her, "I mean, EVERYONE in Ridgewick can see what you're
wearing."
"Every boy in Ridgewick, anyway," Debra added. She seemed
fascinated by Jessie's underpants. Reaching out again, she
started playing with the little red tag on the waistband,
stretching it away from Jess' dimpled belly. Her heart
skipped a beat; several, in fact. The dress was creeping
inexorably toward the ground, inverting gradually over her
neck and shoulders. She was presenting even more of her
lingerie to the world than she had on the swing.
"YEAH!!" Lisa agreed, scandalised by Jessie's evident
disregard for her steadily falling hemline, "you don't want
the BOYS looking at your pants, Jess!"
"Why not?"
"Because they'll think you LIKE it."
Jessie shrugged unselfconsciously.
"So?"
Lisa threw up her hands in surrender; how could you argue
with someone who didn't care if the entire eighth grade
from St Patrick's School for the Criminally Insane was
staring at her undies?
Of course, Jessie's supposed indifference was all an act.
Truth be told, she felt completely mortified. Her dress had
slipped down so far it was practically dropping off her
body. Her smooth, ivory torso was on open exhibit, all the
way down to her tiny pink nipples. This was almost as bad
as being totally naked (except that wouldn't have been as
much fun). Debbie's fingers stroking her tummy didn't make
matters any easier. All the same, there was a sense of
illicit, transgressive pleasure; a gasping, sensuous
delight she couldn't quite admit to.
A brief lull in the debate ensued. Lisa popped a chupa-chup
in her mouth (the only way to effectively shut her up,
apparently) and drifted off into some intellectual twilight
zone. Debbie continued fiddling with Jessie's skimpy white
knickers, pulling on the tag and snapping the elastic. A
cool breeze whipped through the park, stirring the trees
like an Autumn whisper. Jessie shivered momentarily,
feeling a delicious rush of gooseflesh cover her belly.
This had turned out to be such a wonderful day.
"That dress is about to fall off", Debbie warned, tugging
gently on Jessie's skirtline, "then you'll have to walk
home in your underwear."
"No, I won't," Jessie replied, although the idea made her
pulse hurtle into overdrive, "if it falls off, I'll just
put it straight back on."
"If it falls off, those boys will come over and throw it up
in a tree", Debbie said, gesturing towards the oval. She
may have been right, judging by the amount of attention
they were getting at the moment. The ball was still in
motion, but very few of the guys were watching its
movements, not even the legendary Robbie McEwan. Something
far more entertaining was going on up at the Monkey Bars,
something none of them wanted to miss.
"No, they won't," Jessie answered, "I'd be down off here so
fast, they wouldn't get the chance." Her dress was now
hanging completely over her face. She held the hem out of
the way with her right hand, fighting a losing battle
against both gravity and centrifugal force.
"Bet you they would," Debbie challenged. A mischievous
smile touched her lips.
"Bet you they wouldn't," Jess answered.
"Would!"
"Wouldn't!"
"WOULD!!"
"WOULDN'T!!"
"OK, then - let's see."
Moving faster than her friend could react, Debra took hold
of Jessie's dress and yanked it down with a both hands.
Holding on by no more than a promise in the first place,
the frock peeled off without the slightest resistance.
Jessie's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, she
gaped in open-mouthed shock. Her dress had vanished like a
soap bubble, leaving her hanging upside down in nothing but
her socks and panties.
Her lacy, white panties.
Jessica shrieked at the top of her lungs.
To be continued
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