She found a certain pleasure in pressing the fabric against her body, pretending to dry herself. It had become so erotic that it could give a Senegalese regiment a hard-on. It had become so erotic that it could give a Senegalese regiment a hard-on. Some found themselves sitting in the aisle, ejected from the benches. Her magnificent breasts were visible beneath the damp fabric, the triangle of her pubic hair revealing her crotch. Her dress accentuated her curves. The boat was sinking into the water, the spray washing over the cabin and crashing onto the aft deck, soaking us to the skin. The men’s gazes were eager to know a little more about what lay beneath her long thighs. The top of her dress hugged her breasts, revealing their roundness through the sheer fabric, with her nipples poking out, stimulated by the damp fabric and the cooling breeze. Sylvie’s swimsuit was still damp before we left and was going to soak her light dress. It was rocking so much that it didn’t give us time to get
