I checked my phone again for the time. I think I might have sighed loudly, because a young lady sat opposite me chuckled to herself, and our eyes me i... a brief flicker of shared amusement.She was very pretty. Mid-length brown hair tied up in a neat plait, slim figure, small yet pert and appealing breasts. As she sat opposite on the seat, she crossed her legs. Her skirt rode up a little, showing her stocking tops above her knee length boots. She caught me looking at her legs, and smiled, running. It makes you wet doesn't it? Makes you feel like a slut doesn't it? Makes youknow you are my slut again doesn't it?" Looking away, looking down, feeling her eyes on me. Eventually I whispered "Yes." Iwanted to hide. Wanted to be held. I knew that when I stood naked for her shewould find me wet again and know me. Know my real self. I realised suddenlythat I had thought 'when' rather than 'if'. I knew any control I had was slipping. "You should call me Mistress shouldn't you?" It felt like I. More

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