These are great stories.
Here's my more recent experience, and happens to be true. At the beginning of 2008, I had to relocate to a city in the north of England, because of a job that I got offered. I was unemployed at the time, so had litle choice but to take it.
Anyway, after spending a week staying in a B&B, I arranged to meet this lady to have a look at a flat she was renting. I turned up and was met by this really glamourous lady. She looked as if she was in her mid-fifties, but she was dressed elegantly, without looking like mutton dressed as lamb, and she still looked pretty fit.
I looked at the flat, which was nice, and decided there and then, that I would take it. We arranged to meet the next night to sign the contracts. Again, when I turned up she was looking nice. After signing, we got talking and she told me that she played a lot of tennis, went for long walks and did other activities to keep fit. It certainly worked on her.
I arranged for my rent to be collected by her on the first Saturday of each month. I did this because I thought there just may be a chance of getting to see what she wears underneath. The first month she came round, I opened the door to see that she was wearing this short red skirt, flesh coloued hosiery and nice black shoes. I gave her the money and as bent over the table to count the money and write out the receipts, her short skirt stuck out. I just couldn't resist. I got down on the floor, and put my head under her skirt, straight up into a piar of black panties, underneath a pair of tights. I had a few good looks, nd when she left, I felt really turned on by this nice sight.
Anyway, every time she came round I would have things on the chairs, saying that I was doing my Saturday housework. This meant that she couldn't sit down, but had to stand at the table. Over the period of the 20 months that I was living there, she would, more-than-often wear a variety of skirts and dresses. Bending over to count the rent money, write out receipts provided me with ample opportunity to get behind her, go down and look up. I saw a wide collection of her gorgeous underwear, ranging from boy shorts, lacy French knickers and even thongs. On a couple of occasions her skirts / dresses would be so short, I was able to see her tummy, from behind. All-in-all, I looked up her skirts over a dozen times, and I never saw the same set of undies twice.
I sometimes got the impression she knew what I was doing. Maybe she didn't know, or maybe she was flattered by the attention from a much younger man.
I hated living in that particular city, and have sinced moved on. However, the memories of those beautiful sights will stay with me forever.
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