It’s half past five on a Friday afternoon and I’m walking along a fairly busy street in town. Fifty yards or so ahead is a woman with a nice figure wearing a green flowing satiny skirt. I can see her arse jiggling under the skirt and I’m really enjoying the view and getting a bit aroused.

I speed up a little so as to get closer and she pauses to get her phone out of her bag. When she continues walking, something drops onto the ground: something pink. As I get closer I see that it’s a small scrap of material and I pick it up - it’s a pair of knickers!

For reasons I can’t really explain, although it’s probably something to do with being a horny sixteen-year-old boy, I lift them to my nose and inhale deeply. I have no experience of what girl’s underwear might be expected to smell like, but the odour seems to have an immediate effect on some animal part of my brain and I feel myself getting harder. I’d seen enough porn to know that girls get wet down there when they’re sexually excited and I figure that’s what I was smelling and I absolutely love it.

I follow her, wondering what to do, and also wondering if she’s taken them off and is now naked under that slinky skirt that she’s wearing. Occasionally it clings to her buttocks making me think that she has.

It would be just too cringingly embarrassing for both of us for me to stop her and tell her that she’s dropped them and it doesn’t feel right to keep them. Although I can easily envisage myself having a wank while sniffing them!

In the end, I decide to try to slip them back into her bag without her noticing. I speed up again to catch her up and then reach out. I’m not sure if she moves unexpectedly or if I’m just clumsy, but my hand catches on her bag. She spins around, sees my hand, and at that point time seems to pretty much stops.

The first thing I notice is how beautiful she is. I guess she’s about twenty-five, maybe a little older, but her face reminds me a bit of a young Charlize Theron, but it would have to be Charlize Theron in a really bad mood though because she looks furious.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demands, her face red with outraged anger. I know that it looks very bad and my face probably reflects my guilt at being caught. People are staring at us as they walk past.

“I’m terribly sorry,” I splutter. “I was just trying--”

“Those are mine,” she cries out when she sees the panties in my hand.

“I ... I ... I... “ I can’t seem to put a sentence together and now she thinks I’ve stolen them from her bag. She snatches them back and looks at them and then gives me a look like I’m some sort of child rapist or worse.

“What are you doing with them? Are you some kind of sick pervert?” she asks icily. My face burns hot and, inexplicably, I start to cry and I stare down at my feet in overwhelming embarrassment. Now that it’s far too late, I finally regain the power of speech.

“You dropped them,” I tell her. “I was just trying to put them back. I didn’t want to upset you knowing that you’d dropped them. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean ... Oh God.” At the end of all that I risk a peek at her and her expression has softened and a small smile has appeared on her lips.

“That’s very sweet of you. I’m sorry I shouted at you.” she says softly and touches me on the upper arm as if to console me. I feel like a complete idiot crying in the street and passersby are giving me funny looks and a couple have stopped to gawk.

“That’s a cute accent you’ve got there. Are you Australian?” She’s being quite nice now and my tears start to dry up.

“No, I’m British,” I tell her. “English actually, from Guildford.” I add, not really knowing why.

“I stayed over at a ... friend’s last night,” she explains. “they’re not the ones I was wearing.” I think it’s adorable that she feels the need to explain this to me. “I’m not naked under this skirt if that’s what you think.” That was exactly what I thought and it must show on my face. “You did think that didn’t you?” I nod helplessly.

“Oh my God, you sniffed my panties and thought that my pussy is all wet didn’t you?” I can’t deny any of that and I look down at my feet again in shame. I say the only thing that comes into my head.

“They smell beautiful.” I whisper.

“What?” she asks: either she couldn’t hear me or she can’t quite believe what she did hear.

“Your panties, they smell beautiful.” I repeat. I stand there staring at the ground for what seems like an age and she says nothing. Eventually, I raise my head and my eyes upwards until I can see her face. It’s bright red but she is smiling!

“How old are you young man?”

“Sixteen.”

“And may I inquire as to the name of this sixteen-year-old boy who now knows what my pussy smells like and seems to like it so much?”

“Oliver.”

“So Oliver, you were walking along behind me, with my panties in your hot little hand, sniffing them, looking at my ass, wondering if my pussy was naked under my skirt. Is that about right?” she asked me, but she’s still smiling kind of fondly at me. My face burns, I wipe the remaining tears away from my eyes and I nod.

“And you were wondering if it was wet were you?” All of her talk about her pussy and making me think about it has gotten me very hard and she seems to keep glancing down at my groin.

“Yes.” I confess.

“Well, I wasn’t,” she tells me, and maybe she sees my face drop because she giggles. She leans forward and says much more quietly: “but I am now.” She laughs properly when she sees my face light up.

“Well hi Oliver, I’m Gabrielle.” she says and reaches out her hand. I take it and we clasp hands. “How about I let you buy me a coffee.” she adds and leads me along the road by my hand. Her soft, warm hand in mine feels lovely and suddenly I feel incredibly proud to be walking along hand in hand with this gorgeous woman.

She takes me round the corner to a cafe and then looks around the large room until she spots what she’s looking for: a booth in the far corner.

We sit down and a waitress takes her order. I’m not really into coffee and her order sounds more like about six items so, rather than risk further embarrassment, I say I’ll have the same.

“So, how come you’re in the States Oliver?” she asks as we wait for our drinks.

“We moved for my Dad’s job,” I explain. “he’s some sort of banker.”

“Oh right. How long have you been here?”

“About four months.”

She’s just asking me about where I’m at school and girlfriends and stuff like that when our drinks arrive. They are huge and covered with froth and little bits of something. I take a sip and it’s actually quite nice.

“So Oliver, are you a virgin?” she asks, just as I’m taking another mouthful. I narrowly avoid spaying the coffee all over the table by the simple expedient of keeping my mouth shut. Unfortunately, that had the side effect of blasting it up my nose instead.

I choke and cough and splutter and then clean myself up with a handkerchief from my pocket.

“What?” I croak eventually.

“Have you ever had sex ... with another person that is?” Oh God, now she’s implying that I’m a wanker as well as a virgin. I know my face is the colour of beetroot again and I look at her incredulously. She’s smiling sweetly at me and I shake my head.

“God you’re so cute.” she says and leans towards me and kisses me softly on the cheek.

“I’ll be back in a second.” she says and heads off to the toilet. When she comes back she sits down and then holds a closed fist out to me. I put my hand out and she drops a warm but damp scrap of black cloth into it.

I look questioningly at her and we both look down at her groin, then up again, and we both grin. I raise her fresh panties to my nose and the perfume of her sex is almost overwhelming. That, and the knowledge that only seconds ago this cloth was snuggled up on her pussy, has got me fully erect again.

Then she takes my hand and moves it up her skirt between her legs. My heart lurches as I realise where she’s taking it. I look around but nobody is paying us any attention. My hand grazes the incredibly soft skin of her inner thighs and then my fingers make contact with her pussy. From porn, I know roughly what I’m feeling but it’s so much softer, warmer, and wetter than I could ever have imagined.