Stripping Stories

It may be thought that a lady possessed of an independent fortune errs in maintaining her own household and not placing herself under the protection of either some near male relation, or, failing the existence of such, obtaining for herself the guardianship of a husband; for it is an undoubted truth that such a lady, be she ever so plain, will not want for male admirers. Miss Martin was however, neither plain nor desirous of male tutelage; released at last from the dutiful care of an ailing father by the timely demise of such, she found herself free in the world and possessed of a fortune, which carefully placed in the three percents, yielded an income to her of close on six hundred a year. Her long period of suffering at the hands of her intemperate parent had left her desirous of leading a life of independence, and with that in mind she betook herself into the county of Barsetshire and the small village of Denbury where she leased a villa of modest proportions, for be her fo...

Martin could tell Mr Patel looked a little nervous, though it wasn't immediately clear why. The girl in front of him at the little corner shop, the one wearing the running shorts and top, was buying coffee. Why should that make him nervous? He always bought his papers from Mr Patel at the corner shop: Mr Patel sold everything there, and Martin could stock up on milk and bread and things at the same time. The girl in front was counting out her money in small change and Mr Patel was checking it nervously. She was small, slim, brown hair, pretty face, brown eyes, perky bust, bare feet... Perky bust! Bare feet! Martin could see why Mr Patel was so nervous. She wasn't wearing running things, she was dressed in vest and knickers; and from the sight of the perky things pointing through her vest she wasn't wearing anything else. And she was finding it rather chilly. Well she would. It was November after all. Martin couldn't help staring after her as she walked gingerly in h...