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The train drew into the station and we alighted onto the platform. I turned to face her but she placed a finger on my lips and smiled, “You’re not going anywhere, Ivan. You are coming with me.” With that she put her arm through mine and we walked out of the station. It was with great relief that I clasped her bottom, and it was so natural that I pulled her engorged, cunt mound towards my lips. Her hot, hairless cunt tasted so good, and then, as she spread her legs still wider, at last I saw her cunt in all its glory! My goodness it was so beautiful, the most beautiful cunt I’d ever seen, and her erect clitty was bright, shiny wet, and obviously fully aroused. With my tongue I instinctively began to pleasure her lovely, stiff clitty, until all of a sudden she gasped, “Oh God, I’m going to cum”. I saw a photo-stream today where a man had captured nothing but long lens photographs of young women and girls on the street, mothers with children too, and as many attempts at 'flesh' shots as possible. Wind blowing skirts into the air with naked bottoms on the street and the shot tagged as 'Upskirt' too! But when I looked up at her with fear in my eyes, – real fear of losing her, she smiled sexily and murmured softly, “It’s alright, Ivan, dear. Cunt is a lovely word when we say it together, and I’m pleased that you like my cunt, even though you can’t see it all yet.” I was amazed at her self-assurance, and that gave me extra confidence to let go and enjoy her wonderful gifts.
Underwear is so beautiful,” she murmured really lovingly. “I can tell that you are a true lover of underwear, and I love your beautiful, full-fitting white underpants, too. They are just the sort of underpants that I adore, and I even have a collection of my own, traditional, soft white cotton underpants for my own secret pleasures, so we are very well met, aren’t we, Ivan?” Then, the other old favourite, “Would you mind if I slipped off my shoes?” as she revealed a beautiful, dainty pair of feet, adorned in sheer, silky nylon that cried out to be kissed and caressed. No harm in dreaming, I suppose. No, no harm in dreaming and no harm in the throbbing bulge that was developing in my soft cotton underpants. Unfortunately the development taking place in my underpants had distracted my senses, for the next thing I knew was that the train had drifted to a halt and the door of my compartment swung open. I hope you won’t mind my asking,” I began, “but I’m interested in why you refer to your slip as an underskirt.” I was naturally hesitant but Veronica sensed my nervousness and said, “It’s quite alright, nobody can see, and, in any case I feel comfortable with you, and instinctively trust you,” and she smiled reassuringly. Plenty of room in here,” said an assertive but warm, female voice. As I opened my eyes properly I saw that the owner of the voice was a fresh, vibrant looking lady, old enough to be experienced, yet youthful in her demeanour. As she stepped up into the compartment her gaze seemed to focus directly on my trousers which contained a slowly subsiding and unrelieved erection. I blushed. She smiled, mischievously.I was bending to capture a photo on the streets of Glasgow a few years ago and a photographer took an arms length snap of my bum while I was crouched, at close range. Before I realised what had happened he was making off down the street and I have never felt so angry or violated. This behaviour is NEVER acceptable. Oh, I’m going all the way, to the end of the line, to spend a few days with an old friend,” I answered.
The lovely lady squeezed my hand gently and held it for a while. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said. “My name is Veronica, how far are you going?” This slip stops at the waist,” said Veronica, provocatively raising the hem of her light, summer skirt. “It has beautiful lacy detail and a rather exciting slit on one side.” Then, leaning forward she drew my hand towards her and said, “Would you like to feel how smooth and silky it is?” I turned and looked at the length of plumbing in question. “It would certainly put mine to shame!” I said, rather daringly. Wow, what an amazing woman,’ I thought. Veronica clearly loved our intimate underwear, too, and she obviously understood the gentle art of underwear seduction more than any other woman I’d ever known. As we were both ardent lovers of underwear, that was an enormous extra thrill that made everything so extra-special. If we don't shoot people with respect and dignity we will eventually lose the right to shoot people at all.Oooooh!” I gasped, “That feels unbelievable, like nothing I’ve ever felt before, but I don’t think I can hold on much longer.” Illegal or not one thing is certain. Any man photographing nothing but young women and girls in public places has serious issues and is, in my opinion, a danger to women and girls. This predatory behaviour is deeply sexist and brings the genre of street photography and street photographers into disrepute. Oh!” was all I could manage in response. Fortunately, I collected my thoughts fairly rapidly and smilingly exclaimed, “What a wonderful profession. I would love to be your faithful employee”. Then I decided to venture further, and asked, “If it isn’t an impertinent question, are you wearing a full or half-length slip?” She continued stroking my underpants all over from fondling their strong, wide waist-elastic, down onto their cute Y-front area and the seams detail that seemed to hold much of her attention.
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