Over at London’s Notting Hill, Europe’s biggest street festival, I saw some terrific sights of desperate women.
Under the bridge outside Ladbroke Grove tube station, a young blonde lady, wearing a light blue dress, black shoes and holding a can of cola, stood next to me. She looked so nice. I noticed that she was fidgeting a little bit and had crossed her legs tightly. I looked at those legs, mesmerised at how lovely they looked. Suddenly, I saw a small rivulet of pee slowly run down her legs…. she must have been desperate. I watch those legs again, and more pee flowed down them. I got a huge hard on, but I had to move away in case she saw me…..
Outside Westbourne Park tube station, there were a set of toilets that looked like Portocabins. I saw two young women argue over whether to go in them. Both of them seemed desperate, but they were unwilling to go in what they saw as too public toilets.
“I don’t want to go in there!” said the first one.
“Why not?” queried the other.
“They’re ugh, ugly!” replied the first one.
“For goodness sake, I don’t want to go in there alone!” said the other.
The first woman started holding herself and didn’t care who was watching. In the end they avoided going altogether. I wanted to follow them, but was called away by a friend.
At one of the sound stages, I saw a lady dancing with her boyfriend. I immediately saw a wet patch on the lady’s jeans. It had spread down her legs, but not enough to form a puddle…. at least not yet.