It was a public place, so I didn't expect him to touch me in a sexual way. However, I was forgetting that the man was besotted with me. It suddenly occurred to me that if I gave the man an inch of rope, out in the open, he might take a couple of yards and hang himself. All I needed was a witness to spot him molesting me, then I would have some leverage. It was a desperate tactic but one that wasn't too risky out in the open.

The threat of being exposed might be enough to get him to walk away from my mum without involving her. It would of course require a considerable amount of guts to confront him with such an accusation on my own. I needed to talk to Lucy and find out what she would do in similar circumstances. That wasn't going to be easy though during the coming week.

"I understand, daddy. I won't argue again."

"Are you finding the leotard more comfortable now that you've had a run in it?"

"Um, well, it's hard to say... Um, I'd rather wear normal underwear next time."

"What's the problem with what you're wearing?"

I looked into his eyes and tried to play coy while I started to explain. "Well, er, it pulls into all the wrong places, not like the panties and sports bra that were in my underwear drawer before you removed some of my stuff."

"What are you referring to, Tammy? Pulls into all the wrong places. Speak plainly. I hate obfuscation."

"Ummm..." I had a quick glance around and lowered my voice. "...the material has become bunched... Er, the gusset, you know..." I glanced down at the apex of my thighs.

"Spread your thighs. Tammy." When I complied, he moved his hand up, beneath the leg of the shorts. With my thighs parted, the first thing his fingertips touched was my right labia lip, then the bunched material.

"Oh," I said softly.

"Ah, yes, the problem lies within the valley. The material is rubbing against your clitoral flesh. It's the bane of many young women until they have a minor procedure to reduce the size of the abnormality."

We were sitting, staring across a vast field into the distance. Unfortunately, the only creatures witnessing his wandering fingers were about a dozen fat grey pigeons pecking at the grass.

I didn't feel that my pussy was abnormal, but compared to Lucy's, mine grinned more easily. "Everyone is different." I muttered, embarrassed to be talking about the appearance of my sex to a guy nearly old enough to be my dad.

"You're right, Tammy. All girls are different, but some girls find the right road and cleanse themselves of sinful thoughts. You are beginning to understand why your body responds to certain stimulation like the material rubbing in your cleft. You don't like the leotard rubbing against your sensitive flesh, do you?"