His anguish gets suddenly worse as he sees how wide the petticoat is that spreads from his waist: all white, with so much feminine material surrounding him as he peers down over his bra cups. The second petti has to go over his head. Oh the shame of putting up his arms through the open waist, then having Sinead work it down over his breasts until it lies on the first, spreading slightly higher this time. Then, oh misery! He has to wear a third petticoat, in an even more silky material, with the same frills all round the edge. He has to twist his legs together to stop his urgent, growing feelings. He must hold on. He can’t let them see he is filling up with pleasure.

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