David's Remote, ReloadedbyThorilla©
(It was summer 2007; a nineteen year old boy from Wyoming had found a 'FreezeTime Remote' in St Clair's Mall in Illinois. He discovered that it actually froze chronological time, and people became, and remained, living statues until the 'Regular Time' button was pressed.
For some technical reason every living person froze except for the guy who was in charge of the remote. He, or she, was allowed to wander around and do whatever they pleased. Being an out-of-towner from the West, the boy had not realised its full potential, so in haste, and in stupidity, he dropped it in the mall's fountain, and left to meet his friends....the tale is continued by Russ Baumann, Janitor )
I first saw the remote when I was removing debris from the fountain one night when the mall was empty. Initially I thought it was a cell-phone because kids sometimes drop stolen one's there. I fished it out and took it home to my apartment where I dried it thoroughly. It did not seem to work so I figured the electricals were still messed up. I noticed it only had three buttons 'FreezeTime', SloMo' and 'RegularTime'.
A few days later, my buddy in the 'cell-phone repair' stall at St. Clair's checked it over for me and charged it up. "Seems OK Russ, damn remote for something, but never seen one like it before."
He clicked it a few times and I felt a jolt in my spine, my vision blurred then another jolt and he said "Yep the buttons function OK, still can't figure what they do though." He smiled at me in strange way. I noticed he appeared to be suddenly standing further away from me and was counting crisp 50 dollar bills, and had a hotdog. What the heck had happened? I took the remote and left.
I was not due to start work until 7.00pm so I had the day to myself. As a thirty year old guy I liked to keep myself fit so I decided to go for a long walk by the river. This was not one of my 'workout days' at the gym, as I alternated my fitness program.
In my jeans and sweatshirt I set off along the South Orion Riverside Walkway. It was full of joggers, fitness fanatics, mothers with young kids, and business people. There were smartly dressed women in skirt-suits and their shapely legs caught my attention.
I still hadn't gotten over the divorce and was still hungry for a woman's touch. I had always been a 'below-the-waist' guy when it came to girls. Skirts, I found, were a special turn on.
As I strode on I began pushing the buttons randomly and I slammed into the back of a guy who'd stopped dead in front of me. "Whoa, pardon me buddy, you kinda stopped sudden there!"
He did not move and I thought he was so mad at me that he was suddenly going to swing round and beat me to death. I stood back. Nothing happened. I walked around to face him. His eyes were staring, he didn't move. He was like a statue, slightly crazed and scary.
I looked around to see if any one else was interested in our situation. No one was moving.
The walkway was full of 'still people', like frozen in time. Frozen in time?
'FreezeTime' I remembered and looked at the remote. I hit the 'SloMo' button and the statues came back to life, including 'stop-guy', and began wandering around like zombies at about quarter regular speed.
"OK here goes nothing," I thought as I pushed 'RegularTime' and everyone came back to life, the air was full of traffic noise, birdsong and children laughing.
I hit 'FreezeTime' again, as I focussed on a young woman in a dark skirt-suit, sitting on a bench. Her skirt was flared and kept catching little gusts of wind which raised it slightly revealing a white lacy underslip. The traffic noise had subsided. She had become statue-ised instantly and I sat next to her.
"Hi there," I said, "Nice day for having my hand up your skirt lady." I said outrageously.
She continued staring unblinkingly at the river as I ran my hands continuously over her knees under her skirt and petticoat and between her thighs. Her skin was warm and soft feeling, but her musculoskeletal system was unyielding and kind of solid like cement. I touched, and rubbed the crotch of her flesh-colored pantyhose and felt warm lace panties underneath.
My penis stiffened but I needed to urinate urgently. I was clearly sexually excited. I looked around, extracted my hand from between her legs, and ran up to a tree. I decided that I didn't need a tree so stood in front of three matronly looking women who were frozen in mid-walk, unzipped my jeans and pissed wildly, staring into their impassive faces.
Back with 'bench girl' I continued with my thorough underskirt examination while slowly jacking my penis. I imagined having more encounters at the mall so didn't jack to orgasm. I pulled her skirt and slip up to her waist and pushed my face firmly into her crotch area and inhaled. Wow did I inhale? There was an aroma of vagina but out in the open air it was not so obvious. I had to find women who were not wearing pantyhose in an indoor environment.
I set off back towards St.Clair's and pressed 'RegularTime' so at least there were moving people around, and I felt less freaked out by things.
Back at the mall I made for the 'Orchard Bridal Parlour' on the second floor. It was a small store but had several large wedding-gowns in the display window which I had noticed previously. They were bouffant in style supported underneath by masses of white net petticoats. As I stared at them I could see two young women in the store. One was wearing a flounced full skirted bridal gown in white and was standing in front of a baroque style mirror.
I hit "FreezeTime" and walked in. "Good morning ladies," I whispered, lying on my back on the thick beige carpet. I slid my head slowly under 'bride-girls' full white floor length gown.
Under her skirt, I protected my eyes from several layers of coarse white nylon-net which swished over my face. A softer white taffeta underskirt slid over me which allowed a clear, upskirt view of her thighs as I positioned my head carefully and joyfully between her feet.
Staring upwards, her long slim legs extended forever. "FreezeTime" had caught her with her thighs slightly apart so I could see her white lace panties where her young legs met. Everywhere was crisp, white and new. She did not wear hose but wore white high heeled shoes which I began to smell and lick avidly.
Staring upwards I unbuckled my jeans and and began slowly masturbating, using her stiff petticoat hems. The coarse nylon-net was almost painful on my exposed glans; I continued for some time but held back. I wanted further pleasure and was now in a state of permanent heightened sexual tension.
I sat up and pushed my face further up 'bride girls' dress. In the white confined cool taffeta space I stared at her panties and admired her pubic curve at the front. I nuzzled my face into her crotch and her odour was strong. Clearly she was excited about something, possibly the wedding gown I thought. I sniffed and probed her with my tongue, enjoying every second while pulling on my foreskin. Again I held back.
I slid out from under her skirt and felt pre-cum as I pulled up my jeans. Still on the carpet, on my back, I pushed myself over to 'sales girl'. As her tight knee-length skirt came into range I took in a view of lacy underslip over tan pantyhose beneath it.
As my head slid between her shoes I stared up and saw her panties above me. These were pale blue in color and delicately decorated with embroidered white roses. On my knees, in front of her, I squeezed my face up her skirt and under her slip. It was a tight fit and my nose was guided along the smooth pantyhose groove between her thighs.
Her slip was stretched tightly around my head and my progress upwards was eventually arrested by the tight waistbands of both skirt and petticoat. There just was no space to enjoy her vagina although I was aware of a pungent warm odour coming through her pantyhose.
I had learned that statue-ised women in tight skirts were inaccessible unless you unzipped their skirts and pull them down.
I stood up, buckled up and zipped up and stepped behind a curtain, and into the bridal parlour changing room at the rear. I was greeted by a beautiful tableau which made me smile.
There in front of me was a frozen young beauty, wearing an elaborately lacy frilly white basque, in her twenties, leaning forward. Her lips were at the same level as my dick. Her mouth was open and her lips were apart and she looked like she was a finalist in the 'Illinois Miss Bridal Blow Job Competition 2007'
She was stepping out of a huge hooped white petticoat. Her mother seemed to be frozen in mid turn, her flared floral skirt flounced down to her knees. She was wearing dark hose, which may have even been stockings. Clearly this needed serious checking out.
Although the scene looked beckoning and enticing I decided to try something else so I pushed 'RegularTime'.
The screams from 'Orchards' could be heard across midtown as I ran out. Clearly no gratitude was shown by the ladies in the store, having experienced the instant manifestation of a strange 30 year-old creepy 'leering-guy' in front of them during a very tender mother-daughter prime-time moment.
I felt some pangs of guilt; I just hoped I had not freaked the young brides too much. I had feelings, so I figured out that if I was going to use the remote 'responsibly' I'd only do so under conditions that left things neutral and impassive.
"OK Russ," I said to myself, "Let's get some cash." I did the rounds of the stores, 'FreezeTiming' only when tills were open. The dollar bills soon amounted and I took a bag from 'Browns Baggage' to keep my stash together. I calculated that I had acquired roughly $20,000 in a matter of 30 minutes freeze time. "Oh Boy, I can feel a Happy Birthday coming on," I said to myself smiling and laughing.
At the 'Vacation South Europe' travel bureau I was attracted by four young lady assistants who were wearing identical uniforms. They wore pale blue jackets over red, white and blue floral patterned pleated nylon skirts which ended at just below knee level. They were all wearing hose with black kitten-heeled shoes. Three were attending to customers.
I noticed that one was arranging travel brochures on display shelves. She was Spanish looking, with shoulder length hair, and was arranging stuff on the lower shelf and was squatting down, legs apart, her skirt draped on the carpet in an arc shape behind her. I was just about to hit "FreezeTime" when she stood up and went into a backroom.
I stood at the window, feeling cheated and waited for her to return but she didn't come back. I walked in, noticing all the lower shelves were full of Italian brochures. I sat in front of an empty desk where I thought 'Spanish-girl' would usually sit. I was right, the name on the desk read 'Rosemaria'.
Rosemaria soon appeared with more brochures and put these on the floor when she saw me. Smiling she walked over and sat behind her computer facing me. Her face and eyes were gorgeous. Her hair had just been brushed. She must have been in her mid twenties. She was immaculately made up and wore an attractive fragrance. I had my finger on my remote as she asked me what sort of vacation I was interested in.
I told her that I favoured Italy and she said that they may have a few brochures for me to take away. My heart was beating rapidly. She got up and walked to where she'd left the new pile on the floor. I swivelled on my chair and watched her long curvaceous legs moving gracefully under her pleated skirt.
"Damn," I thought, "she's not going to the lower shelves." I noticed there was a brochure on Florence and pointed it out to her on her way back to the desk. "That's out of date; we have the new one here," she said smiling enthusiastically." What about that one on Venice?" I said pointing again. She placed the new brochures on her desk and looked through them. "No we don't have that one here sir," and she stepped round me squatting down in front of the display shelf and froze.
"My my, what have we here?" I said flat on my back, by head under her skirt and flared lacy petticoat. "FreezeTime" had caught her squatting just right, with her feet apart and with only just enough space for me to slide my head in from behind. My face was under her skirt and slip and between her slender heels.
Her knees were wide apart and her beautiful large Hispanic ass was an inch above me. She wore tan colored nylon hold-ups which gripped her upper thighs. I stared at her firm fleshy thighs and lightly licked them as my penis tried to re-enact Mount. St. Helens inside my jeans, including eruption.
I unbuckled, unzipped and released my erection which was clearly eager for action. She wore large white lacy French knickers. Her natural aroma was incredibly strong, almost unpleasantly so as her gusset was badly soiled. Her pubic hair was jet black and very thick.
Pulling her gusset to one side with my teeth I slid my nose and tongue along her vaginal channel exposing her outer lips. She was moist and very warm. Her slit opened further than I was expecting and her aroma overwhelmed all my senses as my penis became rock hard. Her inner lips opened like a fleshy flower and my tongue probed upwards parting her lips further. I couldn't get enough of her scent so I slid some brochures under my head so my face and nose was wedged firmly into her crotch.
This was the moment to release the mornings pent up energies, I thought, as I wrapped the hems of her smooth pleated skirt and slippery nylon petticoat around my exposed glans and began the pleasurable experience of jacking off.
Slowly I built up to the tempo, my tongue moving in time, my face covered in her natural juices. I licked her ass and undersides of her thighs and returned to her vagina concentrating on her labia.
My jerk-off tempo increased until I couldn't hold back any longer. Feeling seminal fluid suddenly rising, I rammed my face deeper up into Rosemaria. At the same moment I released a torrent of warm fresh semen into her clothes. Seven vigorous thrusts later it was all out, and I was drained, gasping for air.
Frozen Rosemaria still squatted over me impassively and silently like a living mannequin. I still felt strangely freaked, anxious to get back to the security of 'RegularTime'
"Spanish girl," I said as I slid out from under her "maybe I'll take my winter vacation with my head up your skirts and also up your co-assistants'." I stood up, cleaned up, buckled and zipped up. I removed the brochures from under her uniform and tidied up. With my 'Browns' bag over my shoulder I stood outside the 'Vacation South Europe' so I could watch "RegularTime" resume.
Rosemarie picked up a Venice brochure turned round and saw I was gone. Clearly this happened often, people just getting up and going. She continued with rearranging the brochures and I watched at a distance while she smoothed down her skirt front, looking slightly bewildered.