Date: Wed, 28 May 2003 04:30:17 +0000
From: Kristy Leigh <kristyleigh2001@hotmail.com>
Subject: Southern Exposure (Part 2) TG.

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 beher 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 annoyLisa 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
tell-tale 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 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 moreof her lingerieto 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

Email me at kristyleigh2001@hotmail.com if you'd like to know if Jessie has
to walk home in her underwear.