Yes, if you insist, I will try to say it—though it is still difficult for me, and I fear the power you will have over me if I do—but I will try.
Well, it was like this. She sat opposite me—auburn haired, beautiful, upright on a hard backed chair. Her dark grey jacket was unbuttoned. Her black tie was tied neatly at the neck of her white starched shirt. I saw the slightest imprint of the upper edges of her bra behind the smoothly ironed material. Her knees were pulled together. The hem of her skirt finished just above them—and inch or so up her slender thighs. She glanced at me. I met her gaze—unsure how long to hold it, how quickly to turn away. We smiled—for her a short nervous upturning of the outer edges of her sweet, full-lipped mouth, for me an open, stupid grin. I was transfixed. She squirmed sideways on the chair—perhaps she was embarrassed. Her knees parted slightly—only the slightest crack appeared between them. I swallowed. Another nervous smile. She knew I was watching. She twisted a little more to the side. The crack between her knees widened. I could only stare. Heaven was unfolding—my world was being transformed. Then suddenly it was there. In the darkness between her thighs, within this secret place above her widening knees, I caught a glimpse, only the briefest glimpse—I can hardly bear to say it even now, my throat goes dry, but, yes, I’ll try—I caught only a glimpse, a glimpse, that was all it was. I cannot say I really looked, not looked in the sense of stared or saw a clear image, no, it was only the merest glimpse of the sheer white material of her tightly pulled cotton panties. It was not a prelude to anything. Nothing happened. It was just a moment, the briefest moment in the span of my life, but now it is indelibly fixed in my mind, locked inside me until I die, part of me until there is no more me.
There, I have admitted it—do with me as you will.
