As is my fancy when I am not dressed in jeans and a T- shirt, I enjoy dressing up. I like the 50’s look and I have a dark blue suit, jacket and full pleated skirt, with the hem a few inches above the knee. I usually wear stockings, the black sheer shiny type, suspenders (or as you call them garter belts) and quite high heels. My skimpy knickers are of satin, which make me feel really sexy especially since my pubic hair has grown quite thick and bushy since a long lost boyfriend persuaded me to shave it off.
I can feel it inside my knickers, fighting with the satin as I walk…it is almost arousing. I also wore a white brushed nylon blouse which hung and clung to my unsupported breasts which seem to acquire a motion of there own under it when walking…especially when wearing the four inch heels. I am a brunette and my long shoulder length hair I wound into a coil on the top of my head. I never wear too much make up, but enough to arouse interest and accentuate my full lips and large eyes.
Anyway hopefully now you can imagine me, as I tripped down to the station and caught the post rush hour train. It was a warm sunny spring day and I took no overcoat, just a brief case for my notes. The journey down was totally uneventful and I arrived at Seymour Hall and sat through the rather boring seminar.
Afterwards I went to a snack bar with some friends I met and we chatted, rather forgetting the time and by the time I left, it was the rush hour and I had forgotten how crowded London becomes at that time…really crowded and how people do it day after day…well it beats me. Anyway I was standing on the underground platform, what you call a sub-way, waiting for a train, together with what seemed the rest of the world, when I saw a man looking at me…In that way men do. To say our eyes met across a crowded station platform would be an exaggeration, but we did have that intense eye contact.
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