“Oh yes. I think sometimes, she touches herself, but it's hard to tell; she's very careful.”
That gave Lynda-Lee an idea. She pulled a long lens from her camera bag and twisted it onto the front of her camera. “Let me sit behind you. I need your support.” She scurried around him, positioning a knee each side of his hips and nestled the camera in the nook of his shoulder. She felt the sharp inhalation as she touched him; her breasts pressed against his back.
Lynda-Lee twisted the lens and the woman's face came into sharp focus. She pressed the shutter release. The lens was so good that Lynda-Lee could read the cover of the fashion magazine the woman took from her purse and held in front. But it wasn't quite right: the woman appeared to be reading, but she wasn't. She looked over the top o
