Part Two:
The pretty young lady, with long brown hair in her flag-girl uniform, felt someone's eyes on her. Julie spun around, frowning, as she noticed her instinct had been right. The eyes were on her red balloon-style-pants-clad bottom. It was that area of her hourglass body that got the most attention when she marched around the Eiffel Tower water basin by the Seine River in Paris. That had become apparent to spectators, especially the men, during practices for the opening ceremonies of the Paris Olympics.
The assortment of marching bands representing nations from all over the world were a colorful spectacle with a big brass sound. They all played the same arrangement up and down the Eiffel Tower basin before the Games. While the fans filed through the turnstiles to enjoy the upcoming Olympic Ceremonies, the attractive flag girl felt herself blush, in both embarrassment and indignation. She pirouetted and stopped dead, bringing the eyes up until they met the gaze of her brown eyes.
"Oh, hi," the caught bottom-watcher said.
The flag girl raised a brow and wiped her brown-haired bangs out from her chipmunk-like cheeks. She then put her hands on her hips. "What do you think you're looking at, sir?"
Armond blushed, himself, stammering, "I can see your bare bottom and delineated cheeks through your thin pantaloons, and sheer pantyhose underneath your uniform, missy!"
The pretty flag girl whipped her shiny, long chestnut-brown hair that swirled around her shoulders. She looked at him incredulously. "You, sir, are about to get slapped. I suggest you get away from me, now!"
He smiled slowly, taunting her with, "One shouldn't wear pantaloons, so thin and tight that they show off your barely covered, delineated bottom cheeks. That is, unless she wants men's thoughts to turn to spanking the seat of those pantaloons."
"Oh, so you want to spank me, huh?"
Armond grinned and nodded, in spite of himself.
The flag girl took his hand and led him behind the temporarily erected stadium, where later that week, the beach volleyball matches would be held by the Eiffel Tower. He went willingly, believing he was about to feel her pert butt bounce under his hand; it heating up as she squirmed and cried and kicked up a fuss, for him to stop. That was why he was so taken aback when she sat on the back bench of a white golf cart parked behind the stands.
The pretty flag girl had a gift for Armond. "Okay, young man, pull down your pants and underwear and get yourself over my lap," she said, as she glared at him-- she was flushed with anger. "If you don't do as I say, I'll inform Barbara Ann, who is the color guard captain. Then she will phone Jones College and file a complaint on my behalf against you. My name is Julie. I would bet your tennis scholarship would be toast and you might even be kicked off the ECU campus."
The girl, in her flag-girl uniform, felt someone's eyes on her and turned, frowning, as she noticed her premonition had been on the money. The eyes were on her nearly sheer pantaloons which displayed the red stripe across her rear when the floodlights surrounding the basin were turned on. The red pantaloons displayed her delineated cheeks. It was that key area of her flag-girl uniform that got the most attention when she marched around the iconic Eiffel Tower basin that night. It was as she had first seen it lit up in the great room picture window at Brownie's, who had graciously hosted their band's color guard. That was where she had received her mysterious spanking before their performance later at the opening ceremonies of the Paris Olympics.
