Brian’s miniscule package made no impression on the cloth. It was as if he had no cock or balls. ‘Jumping jacks, now!’ ordered the sergeant, sm...ling. Used to calisthenics and not wanting to piss the big man off, Brian quickly complied. After walking around the exercising jock a couple of times, the sergeant called a halt. ‘Now, feet at shoulder width, bend over, touch your toes and hold until released.’ Brian had done this exercise thousands of times and swiftly responded, thinking nothing. The skirt really looked great. It slid over her contours and ended just on the knee. I was relieved and saw that she had formed the same opinion from the mirror in the cubicle. I beckoned her over to the rails from which we had lifted the skirt and crouched down in front of her, facing the row of cubicles and the rest of the shop. She stepped forward and stood whilst I pulled and tweaked the line of the skirt and the way the hem sat. I reached up and poked a bit at the waist band too. I. More

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