She was closely studying her phone, oblivious to the world around her. I was standing a few feet behind her, closely studying the exquisite female form before me. Her shoes were a deep red, with just enough heel to give definition to her slender calves. To enhance my pleasure, her shapely legs were unadorned with any man-made fabric. I pictured my hands caressing the delicate skin as I traced her calf muscles as they travelled upwards. Her knees, an area that I’d never before considered sexy, were perfect, just below the hem of her tight skirt. A skirt of some dark material that hid the body but gripped the contours of her buttocks like those arm length gloves of years gone by.

Naturally, it seemed, that arse was also sublime, an athlete, I was sure. The skirt’s top was fastened with a single button above a thin zip. It was all that held the skirt to her narrow waist and something I longed to undo before slowly lowering that zip. The light yellow blouse she wore was silken, loose and pure femininity. I couldn’t discern a bra strap and I felt my arousal as I contemplated standing behind her with my arms around her gripping her breasts, which, I just knew, would be perfect as well.

Her jet black hair, glistened in the evening light, hanging neatly just below her collar. Almost overpowered by lust, I silently closed the gap until I was standing just inches behind her. Close enough that her scent added to my arousal. I’d never done, or even contemplated, anything like this before. I knew that the risk of rejection was high, probably even illegal, yet I just had to try. I placed my hands softly on her shoulders and waited. The object of my desire tensed up but amazingly, did or said nothing. I felt her gradually relax below my touch, so I took the next step. I moved her hair aside, revelling in its silky touch, before I lightly kissed the back of her neck. Apart from the slightest purr, she gave me no sign. As I kissed her neck, my nose was buried joyfully in her hair, its fragrance pushing me to even greater excitement. I allowed my hands to roam, first her shoulders, throat and ears, as if I was blind and needed to remember her beauty just by touch. I was still conscious of the freedoms I was taking and was ready to retreat at the first signs of hesitation. There were none.

Feeling bolder, I moved my hands to where, just a moment ago, I’d dreamed of placing them. Her breasts were unfettered. Small and firm enough that to hide them behind a bra would have been an injustice. Her nipples, like everything else about her, were tiny, at least at first touch. They soon grew in hardness, if not that much in size. I spent what seemed like hours, just playing with her upper body. Somewhere along the way, one of us unfastened the blouse and I was given access to each naked breast. I took that opportunity, exploring every millimetre of her chest, from her throat right down to her taut stomach. I was more relaxed now, as her sounds were purely pleasurable and those firm buttocks that I’d so recently been admiring were being pushed back against my erection.

I can’t ever recall being so sexually excited in my entire life. I was fondling a petite woman, who I’d yet to even utter one word to; we were doing it in a public place, admittedly not one often frequented, but public nonetheless. I wondered just how far I dared to go, and, of course, how far I’d be allowed to go. My hands trembled as I moved one to stroke the front of her skirt as I learned over her, now kissing just below her right ear. Gradually I moved my hand down until it was over her sex, all the time pulling her against my hardness. I noticed that her phone was still in her hands.