The inspector doesn’t seem to want to move his eyes, mouthing a thank you as he passes me back the ticket, eyes glued to my breasts. He snaps out of...his trance and turns to face the man opposite me, asking for his ticket. “I seem to have lost my ticket. I did buy one, honestly.” “Yes, and I once sang with Elvis. You’ll have to buy another one or it’s time to get off.” The pair argue for a moment. There is no charming the inspector. My travelling companion has to pay. His hand delves into his. But something troubled me. Not ready for sleep, too distracted for reading, I wandered aimlessly around the house and ended up in my mother's room. The light was on by her dressing table and a pile of underwear formed a frothy heap on the table where she had changed her clothes. The dark pantyhose were topped with a pair of pale pink panties thrown carelessly in a little ring on top of the stockings. I sat down and stared at the sensual display. Slowly, I ran my fingers through the incredibly. More

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