Devine Intervention

On that scorching summer day, Marissa sought refuge in the bustling food court of her local mall, indulging in her favourite refreshing smoothie. A sea of girls adorned in scandalously little skirts and plunging necklines approached the food court, each one seemingly oblivious to the art of preserving their modesty in a short skirt. Her expression twisted with a mix of disdain and disappointment as yet another group carelessly crossed their legs, brazenly displaying glimpses of their panties pointedly in her direction.

Turning her gaze away from this disappointing sight, she surveyed the scene before her. To Marissa's dismay, not all the girls seemed concerned about keeping their legs together, they shamelessly allowed them to part, inviting prying eyes to explore forbidden territories. And even amongst those who remembered to close their legs, some were lax when it came to pressing on their hemlines, a blatant disregard for concealing the telltale pantie triangles between their thighs.

Amidst the sea of scantily clad girls, Marissa maintained a steadfast resolve to keep her legs tightly crossed, a stark contrast to the carefree attitude exhibited by others. A sense of pride enveloped her as she recognized her mastery in navigating the domain of sitting in a miniskirt. Yet, this display of skilled modesty did not go unnoticed. Her immaculate red puffy lips captured the attention of a group of college freshmen nearby. Their gaze lingered on her, their minds wandering into dirty thoughts, fantasizing about those luscious lips and picturing Marissa in compromising positions with legs spread wide open.

Placing her drink firmly onto the table, Marissa's attention shifted from these unsolicited gazes to the gentle jiggle of her cute little breasts contained within a snug white tube top. A quick tug on the fabric spoke volumes about Marissa's desire to maintain control over every aspect of her presentation. Annoyed by the lingering stares now gravitating towards her thighs, she retrieved her phone and swiftly began texting Lauren, a close friend who provided comfort amidst this world that seemed devoid of proper etiquette.

"When are you going to get here?" Marissa typed out, seeking respite from this uncomfortable situation and eagerly anticipating Lauren's arrival.

Unbeknownst to Marissa, a figure occupied the seat diagonal to her, none other than Professor Galloway himself, accompanied by his wife. Donning a pair of sunglasses, he deftly shielded his face from recognition while allowing him an uninterrupted view of Marissa's captivating presence. His gaze fixated upon her tightly crossed legs hidden beneath the table, a hypnotic sight that quickened his pulse and sent shivers down his spine. Although no panties were yet revealed, he could hardly contain his growing anticipation.

As Professor Galloway feigned interest in his wife's monologue about work, his thoughts strayed toward Marissa's outfit, a short black denim skirt that seemed uncharacteristically snug, perhaps even a couple of sizes too small for her exquisite form.

Inwardly captivated by Marissa's appeal, Professor Galloway found himself barely registering his wife's words as they dissipated into the background noise of the bustling food court. It was a mere distraction from the captivating potential awaiting him just under the surface of that tight black denim skirt.

As if possessing an uncanny foresight, Dr. Galloway's prior assessment of Marissa's skirt size proved disturbingly accurate, she had held onto her black denim miniskirt since her freshman year of college. Despite experiencing a slightly delayed growth spurt over the years, she couldn't summon the courage to part ways with this cherished garment. It embraced her enticing curves perfectly, accentuating all the right places, but given her transition further into college, it had gradually become shorter, testing the boundaries of acceptability.

With her wealth of experience navigating the realm of miniskirts, Marissa remained confident in her ability to gracefully maneuver most situations. However, she acknowledged that even this beloved skirt possessed its limitations. Never once did she dare wore it for class or venture into "high-risk" scenarios involving extended periods of sitting. Yet today's pleasant weather infused a flicker of adventure within her soul, a daring notion blossomed as she contemplated sneaking in a quick walk through the mall with her friends, all while clad in this audaciously little skirt.

As time ticked away, Marissa realized that she had unwittingly prolonged the display of her tightly crossed legs at the food court. A sense of unease began to creep into her mind, prompting her to ponder whether it was wise to remain seated or if she should take advantage of the opportunity and casually browse around while awaiting her friends' arrival.

Casting a vigilant gaze across the bustling expanse of the food court, Marissa's eyes scanned for any potential lurkers, sneaky pervs intent on ogling her exposed thighs. As Marissa continued her observation of the food court, she noticed something amiss. A lingering feeling that a few pairs of eyes were fixated upon her exposed legs, piercing through the facade of innocent conversation exhibited by a group of college freshmen. The realization stirred a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity within her.

"Whateveeer," she thought with a subtle smirk curling at the corners of her lips, a silent declaration that their attention was no threat to her.

With a dismissive shrug of her shoulders, Marissa returned her focus to the digital realm on her phone. Purposefully averting her eyes from the lingering gazes that sought to penetrate the barriers surrounding her crossed legs, she sought relief within the virtual confines of social media.

Dr. Galloway's keen eyes meticulously studied Marissa's every move, his thoughts veering towards a peculiar mix of fascination and desire. He couldn't help but notice the confidence that radiated from her, an alluring aura heightened by her exquisite long legs, captivating hair and a face that could mesmerize even the most jaded onlooker. Yet, it was her flawless ability to defend herself in an undeniably undersized skirt that truly captivated him.

Her air of self-assuredness radiated throughout the food court, setting her apart from the other girls who appeared like novices in their miniskirts. The professor marvelled at how effortlessly Marissa showcased her relaxation and control, a testament to her expertise in effectively defending herself against prying eyes.

Noticing the subtle moments when she rose from her seat to visit the restroom, Professor Galloway's attention honed in on Marissa's instinctive reflexes, her hand instinctively clutching onto her hemline as if guarding it against any potential intrusion. With each deliberate return to her seat, she maintained a tight grip upon her skirt, only relinquishing it once she had successfully recrossed her legs.

Marissa's vigilant state did not go unnoticed by Dr. Galloway. He recognized that today she was particularly attuned to potential threats lingering around. Yet he knew he possessed both patience and persistence, a steadfast determination that whispered promises of eventual fulfillment for his voyeuristic desires.

As half an hour slipped away in the blink of an eye, Marissa remained blissfully engrossed in her digital world, unaware of Professor Galloway's unwavering scrutiny directed towards the alluring crease formed beneath her thighs. Oblivious to his intense stares, she continued fervently texting her friends, eagerly discussing their impending meet-up and excitedly deliberating on the various fashion items they planned to procure from the mall.

The strain of Marissa's tightly crossed legs began to manifest itself in the form of a slight leg cramp, subtly reminding her that it was time for a necessary adjustment. Though her legs remained firmly crossed, she recognized the impending cramp and the need to shift positions, a challenge deemed too daunting by those less acquainted with navigating the perils of a skirt as short as hers.

Aware that she had no alternative but to address this physical inconvenience. Marissa paused for a moment, discreetly scanning both directions to ascertain there were no prying eyes fixated underneath her table before she attempted to recross her legs.

Displaying a mastery over her modesty, Marissa swiftly switched the position of her legs with precision. A choreography executed flawlessly with one thigh delicately slipping over the other. Throughout this intricate process, one hand dutifully shielded her gap from any intruders seeking to breach its sacred boundaries. Her commitment to safeguarding and maintaining control over every facet of her being remained steadfast even in moments demanding both grace and caution.

Marissa's expertise and years of practice effortlessly concealed the complexities of her actions, bestowing an illusion of ease upon them. Despite her proficiency, a fleeting sense of regret seeped into her consciousness. She questioned her choice of skirt as she cautiously surveyed her surroundings once more, diligently ensuring that no prying eyes had caught even a brief glimpse of her intimate secrets.

A sense of satisfaction washed over Marissa as she observed the usual cast of disheartened college jocks who yearned in vain for the coveted pantie shot, whose desires she adeptly denied with ease. A victorious smirk danced across her lips as she resumed her focus on the lively exchange with her friends on her phone.

Meanwhile, Professor Galloway's disappointment became palpable as his gaze shifted away from Marissa, an unsatisfied hunger left lingering in his eyes. The rare opportunity to witness what lay concealed beneath Marissa's undersized skirt slipped through his grasp yet again, thwarted by an existence he described as "boring" and "obstructive": his wife. The lingering frustration seethed within him like an untamed beast eager for liberation, a longing that would drive him relentlessly toward new avenues where he could satisfy his forbidden desires.

For the time being, Marissa maintained her determination to keep her legs tightly crossed, a trusted safeguard ensuring that her most intimate secrets remained concealed. The undersized denim skirt clung firmly to her crossed thighs, accentuating the pronounced gap present in her lap. As if guided by an unseen force, her table's strategic placement cast a shroud of impenetrable darkness upon the exposed area between Marissa's tightly crossed legs. Her secrets remained concealed from prying eyes, for now...

After what felt like an eternity, Marissa's friends finally made their entrance into the bustling food court. Their voices carried with an exuberant energy as they closed the distance towards her table, threatening to shatter the fragile veil of secrecy she had carefully woven.

"Marissa!" exclaimed one of her friends, unable to contain her excitement as she approached. The sheer volume of her words drew curious gazes from nearby patrons, eyes that could potentially unveil Marissa's guarded secret.

Marissa couldn't help but break into a wide smile at the sight of her companions. Embracing the urge to rise from her seat and greet them, she hesitated mid-action after uncrossing her legs in a swift motion that betrayed an ever-present vigilance. Instinctively, Marissa's hand darted downward and clutched at the fabric of her skirt.

"Wait!" Lauren interjected hastily, desperation colouring her voice. "OMG, I gotta show you all a picture of my new puppy!"

The impending embrace was put on hold as Marissa's friend took out her phone, a gateway to sweetness and innocence embodied within the captured image of an adorable furry companion. Squinting slightly to take in the details displayed on the screen, Marissa maintained cautious composure despite leaving herself vulnerable by keeping her legs dangerously uncrossed. Her hand remained gripping onto the front hemline of her skirt with determination akin to holding a tightly-wound fist.

As both their attention fixated on the tiny screen displaying boundless cuteness, Marissa remained firmly planted on her seat, unknowingly exposing her naked uncrossed thighs to potential voyeurs in the food court. A group of college guys nearby, eyes hungry for any glimpse or hint of vulnerability, had been secretly observing her every move. Their initial disappointment quickly transformed into a wicked fascination as they realized she remained resolute and unyielding in this seemingly vulnerable state. Unlike the other girls within their line of sight who would succumb to accidental exposures with legs uncrossed or skirts hiked up, Marissa defied their expectations, an enigma wrapped in allure.

The guys exchanged knowing glances amongst themselves, silent communication passing between them like an electric current. As if compelled by some unseen force, they turned away simultaneously from the captivating display before them, acknowledging defeat in their quest to catch a glimpse beneath Marissa's skirt.

Professor Galloway couldn't help but chuckle softly, his eyes fixated on Marissa's hand desperately shielding the last bastion of protection for her modesty. It was almost too easy to perceive the facade of false confidence she projected, an act meant to cloak a trembling vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface. Amidst her years of experience wearing miniskirts, Marissa had cultivated an illusion of fearlessness, skillfully deceiving those who dared take a glimpse.

However, Dr. Galloway saw through this charade with unwavering clarity. His perceptive gaze discerned the frightened girl concealing herself, a pretty little thing on the cusp of surrendering her panties, yet clinging desperately onto the remnants of control.

Marissa's heart raced within her chest as panic coursed through her veins, the current predicament unfolding against even her experienced expectations.

Professor Galloway remained seated, his gaze fixed upon Marissa's delicate hand with perfect black nail polish, the very same hand that valiantly guarded the precious hemline of her skirt. And yet, even in the midst of her apparent self-assurance, the professor detected a minuscule tremor, a subtle crack in the flawless facade she presented to the world. It was an unexpected revelation for someone who exuded such confidence with every fibre of her being.

"Ah, a tight undersized denim skirt. Truly a masterpiece." he thought with a devilish glimmer in his eyes, savouring the illicit thoughts that danced within his mind. As he nonchalantly brought the steaming cup of coffee to his lips, he casually dismissed the incessant yapping of his oblivious wife, a mere backdrop to the captivating spectacle unfolding before him.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Marissa exclaimed, "OMG, I wanna tickle him!" Her face radiated with a genuine smile, one that Professor Galloway had seldom witnessed before. For the briefest moment, her hold on her skirt loosened ever so slightly, granting a fleeting glimpse of contrasting white lacey panties to the appreciative gazes of the college guys nearby. The sound of their giggles and whispered comments reached Dr. Galloway's ears, arousing both frustration and intrigue within him.

Though his wife continued to obstruct his view, unaware of the seductive display unfolding under her oblivious watch. While seething with silent vexation at being denied the perfect vantage point himself, Professor Galloway couldn't help but admire Marissa's unwavering determination in safeguarding her precious skirt from prying eyes.

Despite his wife's clueless interference preventing him from witnessing the sight of Marissa's lacy white panties, Professor Galloway found solace in the knowledge that the presence of adorable creatures, such as puppies, had an unexpected effect on weakening her firmly closed legs. While this technique had exerted its miraculous power over many unsuspecting girls in miniskirts, a secret pleasure he indulged in secretly. Professor Galloway was pleasantly astounded to discover that it held true even for a woman as experienced as Marissa.

He couldn't help but continue to admire Marissa's determination, for she held her hemline firmly pressed between her squeezing thighs for much of the time she was shown the adorable puppy on the phone. It wasn't until later that she finally succumbed to the irresistible allure of the fluffy creature. Like many things in life, he had always suspected that getting a glimpse up Marissa's seemingly impenetrable skirt was indeed a true test of patience, a delicate dance between temptation and restraint, ultimately rewarding those dedicated enough to outlast her formidable defences.

"You're thinking of getting another puppy, Maris?...looks like we'll have to find you a new skirt first!" remarked Lauren with a playful giggle.

Marissa's smile wavered ever so slightly as she registered Lauren's astute observation of her silent skirmish with her skirt. Feeling a mix of surprise and vulnerability at being seen through, she swiftly rose from her seat, initiating a partial hug while ensuring that one hand remained firmly clasped onto the cherished fabric of her skirt.

As Professor Galloway's gaze lingered on Marissa, he meticulously studied her from top to bottom. The way she stood there, visibly straining to squeeze her legs tightly together in such a narrow stance, all in an effort to prevent the little denim skirt from daring to ride up her heavenly smooth thighs, it was nothing short of mesmerizing. A primal hunger stirred within him, causing his smile to widen as he savoured the sight before him.

Today felt different somehow, he mused with a knowing grin. The undeniable allure of the undersized skirt clung to Marissa like an invitation, a silent declaration of her true sentiments towards it. And in that narrow stance she defiantly assumed, Dr. Galloway found himself captivated by the depths of her inner thighs revealed through every subtle movement and restriction she imposed upon herself for the sake of modesty.

"In due time, my old friend," he murmured, his voice tinged with an air of anticipation. It was as if he could almost sense the alluring presence of her delicate white lace panties nestled deep between her thighs, pleading for his undivided attention. They yearned to be liberated from the confines of darkness and secrecy, yearning to bask in the light that only he could provide with his repertoire of sneaky tricks to uncross her temptingly clamped legs and overcome those seemingly superglued thighs.

As Lauren continued to taunt her about the challenges posed by her little denim skirt, a deep flush of embarrassment crept up Marissa's cheeks. She anxiously pleaded with Lauren to lower her voice, not wishing to attract any further attention to the already rebellious nature of her skirt and the vulnerability it exposed upon her thighs. Yet, undeterred by Marissa's pleas, Lauren persisted in tormenting her friend, playfully suggesting they visit a shoe store first. It was at that moment that Marissa's eyes widened with apprehension.

"No way! Not with this skirt!" Marissa exclaimed urgently as she fiercely tugged on both sides of her skirt, one final effort to fortify its defences against any potential mishaps. Walking away alongside her friends, she couldn't shake off an unsettling feeling, whispering ominous warnings that something unexpected was poised on the horizon.

Galloway seethed with indignation, his fury simmering beneath the surface as he remained resentful towards his wife for impeding his view. However, in a sudden surge of pure rage, his body betrayed him, succumbing to the telltale signs of an impending stroke. Unilateral weakness coursed through his limbs, causing him to collapse onto the unforgiving ground. As gravity claimed its hold on him, his shades slipped from their perch.