Although its called the underground, London's tube is quite often above ground. One such place is Ruislip in London's NW. It was here as a teenager I lived in the 1960s. Like many other teenagers I was virtually obsessed with sex. I had been up to the West end, Soho to be more precise. I had spent a horny hour or two browsing the tame by todays standards magazines in the numerous sex shops. I had even spent a while in a strip club, where you were tantalised by a sexy young girl who eventually gave you a quick two second flash of her pubic hairs. And in the absence of Internet or computers, bought a set of photographs where in black and white you could wank to a homely girl in petticoats, panties, stockings and suspenders
It was dark as I walked away from the tube station passing by the back gardens of the houses which fronted the main road. My eyes were drawn to one particular house which still had a line of washing out. Nothing unusual about that, it was still warm and rain was not forecasted, but what had caught my attention was three pairs of cute little panties. They were at the end of the line, nearest to the road I was on, the only thing separating me from the panties was a paling fence and an open gate. I stopped and checked for fellow tube users, but it appeared as if I was the last to leave the station, there was no sign of life from the house, it was in darkness.
It probably took less than ten seconds to reach the cotton panties, snatch them from the line, stuff them in my pocket and return to the station road. It was less than a ten minute walk to get back to my parents house. Ten minutes walking with my hand thrust firmly in my pocket, fingers wrapped around the soft material, occasionally feeling the lace trim against my thumb.
At home I made some excuse to my parents, safely installed in my bedroom, examined my spoils. The panties were identical apart from colour, what had appeared white in the evening gloom, were in fact three pastel shades of blue, pink and yellow. The label showed the makers name, but in addition the sizing was indicated as for thirteen to fourteen year olds.
I have no idea what become of those panties, but I remember sleeping with them against my face, wrapped around my cock or even being worn for the day. I must have wanked numerous times with them, and in a way I guess are responsible for my fetish I still have as I near my seventy fifth birthday. Incidentally if you are a late sixty year old women, who used to live in Ruislip, that had three pairs of panties stolen, I can only apologise