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Her hands, her fingers on her thighs, digging into them, as though they would anchor themselves there, half covered it. - (Magicians of Gor, Chapter 19, Sentence #1039)

"The palms of your hands are facing upward," I said. "Oh!" she said, and quickly turned them downward, and clutched her thighs. The rag she wore, given her knee position, that of a pleasure slave, was high on her thighs. Her hands, her fingers on her thighs, digging into them, as though they would anchor themselves there, half covered it. Her grip was partly through the cloth and partly on her thighs. Midway in her grip came the garment's frayed hem, pressed down on her fair, sweet thighs. The contrast was attractive, like slave silk against flesh, or a narrow cord sustaining such silk at the shoulder, perhaps an inch from a disrobing loop, or the metal of slave bracelets locked on small, downy wrists, a rope on a waist, snug above a sweetly rounded belly, or a collar on the neck. - (Magicians of Gor)