A Flash of Red

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A number of winters ago, I took a few days off from being a mom and accompanied my husband to a business seminar in Clearwater, FL. A chance for a break from the Midwest winters. I packed only a couple of mini skirts, some summer tops, a nice dress for evenings, three string bikinis, and bras and panties, including the red panties in the photo above. We arrived in Clearwater to beautiful weather. I spent the first day of the seminar sleeping late, eating breakfast and lunch on my own and lying by the pool.

Many of the seminar goers came out to the pool at break time to ogle all of us ladies wearing teeny bikini bathing suits.

My husband was always proud to show them that I was with him by coming over and sitting with me.

The next morning, I was up early with my husband and he told me to join him for breakfast, since the seminar provided a free buffet outside of the meeting room. I put on my red panties, a black denim mini skirt and summer top. The seminar was casual, so I didn't feel that I would look out of place.

When we got downstairs, the hotel had a beautiful buffet arranged in the hallway outside the meeting room, however the only places to sit were groups of eight chairs arranged around short coffee tables that were only large enough to hold each person's coffee and juice glasses.

I had assumed that there would be tables with tablecloths that would cover my very exposed legs when I sat down. "Oh well", I thought. I will just get a large cloth napkin to place on my lap and all will be well. I got into the buffet line with my husband, filled my plate, and looked for the typical silverware wrapped in a cloth napkin. Instead the silverware was open and, if they had had cloth napkins, they were all used and in their place was pile of small paper cocktail napkins.

I was horrified.

The only way to effectively eat breakfast was to sit in a chair along with 7 other people, with one's plate on one's lap. I knew that with at least 5 strangers sitting opposite me, (two seats were at my side and thus would not have the same view as the other people sitting with us), I was going to not only be showing my legs, but also provide a very clear view of my red panties.

Why did I have to pick red this morning instead of black or some other dark color that wouldn't be so obvious? The chair opposite mine would only be about 6 feet away.

My God, if my panties had been embroidered they would be able to read them.

I quickly ran through my options, which were basically none. I already had a full plate of breakfast in one hand, with a glass of juice in the other, and my husband had already taken a seat with an empty one next to him. It is funny how my mind didn't want me to do something that would have people notice me; like leaving. At the same time I fully realized that 5 men whom I had never met before would have an unobstructed view up my now too short skirt. And I would be the only one in the group with a skirt on.

I looked directly at my husband, gave him a big smile and went and sat in the seat next to him.

As I sat down, my skirt immediately rose to a point where I could almost see my panties. I could only imagine what the view was for everyone else. Everyone around the table watched me as I sat down. I knew immediately who had a good view and who didn't simply by how their eyes opened wider and how quickly they tried not to stare. I was correct in my assumption that 5 of these young men would have a floorshow, staring me, with their breakfast.

I placed my juice on the table, my plate of food on my lap, smiled to everyone, and said "Hello".

After a short while I realized that the best view of my panties could be had by those directly opposite from me, for whenever they reached over to pick up their coffee cups or juice glasses, the slight lowering of their heads gave them a clear view of red nylon. This was evident to me since the three men opposite me continuously took small sips of their drinks, allowing them to lower their heads much more often than necessary. And when they reached forward for their drinks, their eyes were always looking right under my plate.

Although I was quite embarrassed at first, after a while it became a game to me to catch them looking and watch how quickly they looked away.

Why do men always think that we don't see them looking?

Even those around the table, which I spoke to in general conversation, were rarely looking at my face when they responded to me.

I believe that I started at least five young executive's day with a bang or is that a flash?

When I stood up to leave, I told them all to have a good day, and gave them a smile that said, "I know that you all saw my panties, and I hope you enjoyed it."

When I got back to my room I just smiled and smiled for the longest time.

Who would have thought that my choice of red panties that morning would become a lasting memory for myself and possibly 5 strangers?