Don't judge me, ok? I'll tell you what happened.
I'll just... start at the beginning. Be patient with me.
I met her by accident, or at least, that's what I thought. I mean, I should have been more careful, you know? But I had no idea!
Ok, ok, I know. "Start at the beginning". Here goes.
I was... look, I'm not proud of it. I was... playing. I mean, I figured out how to... sort of... flash a bit of leg. You know, just being cheeky, but in ways that didn't look like it was on purpose.
I just loved it so much! I would put on a breezy summer dress, nice and short, and look for little accidents I could have. You know, sort of "wardrobe malfunctions". Just enough to flash a little, so I could see the reaction. It made me feel so powerful, so sexy. It didn't take much to get me so horny I would hurry back home and... well, get the relief I needed, right?
That's not so weird, right?
Ok, so I was out playing this day. It was last summer. I found a spot in the local park where I could sit on a low concrete wall. I could lean back on a pillar, and raise my knees just enough, you know? So anyone coming up the path at just the right angle would be getting a peek.
I would wear dark glasses so nobody could see where I was looking, and I had an old paperback that I held against my knees. That way, I could pretend to be innocently reading, and keep an eye on everyone as they went past, just to gauge their reactions.
The women almost all just went by without even noticing. Or if they noticed they didn't show it. They would have assumed it was accidental, but that's only if they gave it a thought at all.
But the men!
It's amazing what power a pair of smoothly shaved legs (ok, I also used a little foundation on them to make the skin look flawless. A lady has her little tricks!), has on a man. It's like their gaze is drawn upwards to find a pot at the end of the rainbow or something. They would steer just slightly to one side, or turn to look at "something" to their left, just to swing back around and steal another glance. It was all pretty transparent.
Some men made no attempt to even hide it. They just gawked! That's why I needed the book and the glasses, so I could pretend not to notice.
To be fair, every now and then there would be a gentleman. I mean, a truly chivalrous man. I would catch that moment when he suddenly caught a glimpse up my dress, and he would turn his head. Literally, he would turn away and be looking the other way as he went past, pretending to notice something over there. If such a man was with someone else he would also draw their attention away. Bless 'em, there's not many like that, but they're out there.
Anyway, it turns out I hadn't been careful enough in my games. I did have my favorite spots, and in hindsight it was bound to happen sooner or later...
I got caught.
Miss Havisham... ok, look, now that I think of it I don't really have any way of knowing that's her real name! But anyway, she had been watching. I don't know for how long, and I never really paid much attention to the women I saw, because I felt pretty invisible to them. Presumably she had noticed me around, and she picked up on my patterns.
I did have a different kind of knickers on that day. I had started out with my regular briefs, and as I felt more sexy I found lacy thongs, normally white ones, for my games, but this day I had hot-pants. They were lacy, and a sort of emerald green color. I was trying them out. I still wasn't sure if they made me feel as sexy as the thongs. It wasn't "better" or "worse", it was just a different feel, and a different look. I spent several minutes in the mirror that morning just seeing how I felt about them, so I was giving them a try.
I didn't have a dress this day, but a skirt. It wasn't all that short, either. It was above the knee, but you wouldn't call it a mini. The light green pleated skirt and little yellow cardigan were a really sweet match, together with a modest white blouse with a pretty little ruffle around high neck. I felt pretty in that outfit, and the knickers matched in with it. It was a nice ensemble.
I was stunned into instant silence when Miss Havisham, whose approach I had not even notice, suddenly appeared immediately in my personal space, intruding on my bubble of pretend book-reading, and people-watching (ok, men-watching). She was dressed conservatively. She was much older than me. Maybe my parents' age. Maybe even a little older. She was attractive. Not "pretty", the way younger women are, but beautiful. She was noble. Almost regal.