The Preparation of Louise
By Expatdad ©
Louise preened before the mirror. The new mini looked terrific, or at least her exposed, shapely legs looked terrific. She would not normally have dared wear such a mini-skirt if her father were at home. The skirt hugged her hips tightly. It was 9 inches above her knees. Her lacy panties would not remain hidden if bent over, or if she sat down. Thankfully her parents had just left half an hour ago for a weekend in the Eastern Highlands and Louise could indulge her erotic daydreams.
Louise turned to admire herself. She had much to admire. At eighteen, Louise had the figure of an older woman, at least in the bust department. There had not been a girl in her school who had a bust to match the size of Louise's full and rounded mounds. Only Louise knew that they stood firm and proud without sag despite their size. Her eager boyfriends back in England had been lucky to touch. None had progressed beyond her outer garments.
Louise was wearing a pink lightweight sweater. It sported low cut V-shape at the front. Round thrusting, pale breasts did not seek to escape from that top. It was not that tight, though cut low enough to reveal the delightful orbs within. It carefully hugged her breasts from below and to the sides. The curve and shape was clear to all, and that was the way Louise liked it.
She liked men looking at her.
She received quite a thrill to see the desire in the eyes of men as she swished past.
Normally she wore trousers that were tight and hugged the full curve of her well-rounded bottom. The trousers were tight enough to indicate the rounded fullness of her thighs, but not in the revealing way of her new mini-skirt. Her father would throw a fit if he could see her now. Would probably lock her in the bedroom and throw away the key if she ventured out to the local shops in this outfit.
Louise could well imagine the looks of the African men if she tried walking along the covered walkway that ran beside the shops. It had been bad enough to keeping their hands off her bottom when she was wearing trousers. It would be virtually impossible to keep their lewd hands from under a skirt as short as this!
Louise slipped into an erotic daydream imagining what it would feel like for those black hands to be up under her skirt. Not a single boyfriend had achieved that objective. Yet still she fantasized about what it would be like to finally let a man's hand explore her body.
Louise had only been in Zimbabwe a month. Her parents had been here six months. Louise had been able to finish her schooling at the exclusive girl's boarding school in the lovely English Lake District. It would be another six weeks before her A-level exam results would arrive and she could apply for a university place. Louise had no idea what career she wanted to follow, but all her friends were going to university, and her parents expected it of her. So ‘uni’ she was going.
As the pampered daughter of man who had spent most of his life as a director of one company or another, Louise had not considered the possibility of actual working with any seriousness. University would be the place to find a clever man who was going places and marry him, or so her mother had advised. Since her mother had always given her good advice and done well for herself in marrying daddy and seemed happy Louise had every intention of following her mother's advice.
The ring of the doorbell made Louise jump. The sudden panicky thought that her parents had returned was quickly subdued. Her parents would not have rang the doorbell! Indeed in the month since she had arrived she could not remember ever hearing the doorbell. Surely the normal practice was for the gardener to check who was at the gate, and discover from her parents whether the visitor was welcome or not. Ferai the gardener had already left to visit his cousin's house across town, she slowly remembered.
She walked to the front door of the villa. Practicing walking in her new skirt as she walked the corridor from her bedroom to the door, she did not bother to wonder who it would be. She would find out soon enough.
She peeped through the security hole in the door and nearly recoiled in shock. It was Scarface and his cronies!
She had no real idea of his name. Did not indeed know him at all, other than to see him and his friends hanging around the area the shops drinking beer. Every time he had looked at her it had given her a weird thrill.
He was an evil looking man.
She had wondered how and where he had acquired such a scar, her furtive imagination working overtime. He knew her mother, though she could not imagine how. She had overheard him make a lewd suggestive comment to her mother who had looked at him and continued past, while yelling at Louise to keep up.
What on earth did he want?
She yelled at him to go away.
He did not.
She could not hear his words on the far side of the heavy security door. If he had buzzed her from the gate they could have talked on the intercom.
‘Had the house domestic let them in through the gate?’