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Dirk glanced at me again and when I didn't do anything but watch, he started undoing her blouse. The guy on his opposite side moved his hand up onto her thigh at this point. I could see better now, eyes were adjusting to the dim light, and I could tell that the blouse had already been partly undone, sure it was Dirk's earlier work. She was very out of it, moved her leg slightly but eyes were still closed. Dirk got the blouse undone, and pulled her still hooked bra over her tits. The other guy was trying to tug down her panty hose without much luck. At this point she started pushing them away with her hands very weakly, saying no, which was barely audible over the stereo.No one had said anything since I entered the room. One of the guys sitting at the bar quietly came over, climbed on the sectional, took her hands and held them above her head.Dirk looked at me, and though it was obvious she didn't want the attention she was now receiving, I just stared at her. The guy fondling her. We had been gratefully invited toprovide a female balance. Several local French, including the mayorarrived, some in period dress.Lunch was a buffet, a selection of meats and sausages with French breadand cheeses, salad and half a dozen dressings. There was red or white orrose wine and champagne. I loved the feel of my dress, the petticoatswirling around my legs and swishing every time I moved. I felt morefemme than ever before.We had finished lunch and I sat alone for a moment. I sensed someone bymy side, turned my head and raised my eyes to find a stranger there. Ishielded my eyes against the light."Pardon, mademoiselle, I move so you can see me." He moved around out ofthe brightness of the sunlit sky. I saw a man of about thirty five, justunder six feet tall, slim, a thin not unhandsome face and dark hairslicked down. He wore riding britches and boots, a tweed hacking jacketand carried a riding crop. His accent was oh so charming French."Have you lost your horse?" I asked."Mais.
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