Close Call

This is a non-consent story so please be aware in advance. As a young man with a fetish for older women in pantyhose, I would frequent markets and stores. I was living in a metropolitan city by myself. One early evening I was in a library and saw a mature lady reading a financial magazine. I sat near her and try as I might, couldn't get more of an upskirt view than a little of her knees. Foolishly and pent up with lust I decided to follow her when she got up and left, determined to see all of the goodies under her dress. She went down the street to an apartment building. I followed her but the door was locked. She saw me outside and smiling (I don;t know why I did this but I think I brought out a $5 bill?), she opened the door for me. She was getting her mail, and now that I had her alone and with her back to me I went for the gusto and got on the floor to get the view up her dress. All of a sudden I hear her ask "What are you doing?" in a Eastern European accented voice. Busted, I decided I had nothing to lose and stuck my lusty hand all the way up to her pantyhose crotch. She yelled "Help Help! R*pist!" I ran out the door and up about 3 streets until I got a cab to my house about 28 blocks away. Ironically that same block I was on had a police station down the street across from the library. I always meant to go back and leave an anonymous note apologizing but didn't dare risk it. I always wonder if she remembered me from the library.