Last week, I was in London’s Piccadilly Circus with my friends when I saw this lovely young woman outside Tower Records. She was a brunette, and she was wearing a white t-shirt, cream skirt, and trainers.
She looked to be in distress. She was pacing up and down outside the store. I bet she needed to pee quite badly. I looked at the skirt, and I saw a small wet patch on it. Then she grabbed her crotch in brief intervals.
She looked and behaved like a tourist because she couldn’t speak any English and tried unsuccessfully to ask people where the nearest toilets were. I wanted to help her, only because I saw that wet patch and got slightly aroused. My nervousness however, stopped me from doing my potential good deed.