On My Own Ch. 01

This is another one a little out of order, but I'm having trouble remembering what's what.

I got home about 4 am Thursday morning. It was early summer, but the "lows" were still in the mid-80s. Pretty much everybody was asleep. Pretty much? People in my neighborhood either had real jobs or stayed home and slept in.

I walked into my bedroom, kicked off my shoes, pulled my trousers down and unbuttoned my blouse and took it off, then my socks. I stood there in front of my mirror in bra and panties. Flesh colored bikini cut panties and flesh colored bra that didn't show anything. I grabbed my clothes and tossed them in the laundry hamper and then walked back to the mirror.

"Fuck," I said. It'll just be a short one. Just a couple of houses. I have to prove it to myself.

I walked out to the foyer, opened the door and stepped out onto the entry. And shivered. Then shut the door and started walking.

I got to the end of my sidewalk and looked both ways, then turned left. I walked past about three driveways and decided to turn around. And kept walking. I walked past another three and then turned around and walked back to my house. I felt so excited and satisfied. But I was shot (another shitty week, a small layoff) so I just went to bed and crashed.

I slept until just afternoon and had whatever meal that would be, then showered and got dressed.

I went around the house a little doing some chores, then decided to head to the mall. Friday afternoon at Barton Creek Mall. Not too busy? Easy parking? HA! It wasn't Friday after Thanksgiving full, it wasn't even Saturday full. But more people than I would have expected.

I have no idea what I was looking for. I walked into Nordstrom's and actually bought a pair of way overpriced shoes. I wandered around, poking in to this store and that until I suddenly found myself in Macy's in the lingerie department. And the light bulb popped on. I looked at some frilly stuff, then decided I'd come back to it, maybe. From there I headed over to Vicky's. Contrary to what most guys fantasize, they really don't have really exotic or explicit undies there. Nice stuff, stuff you might wear on a second date when you've decided to "do it". (Come on, we all know it's really the fourth date, you have to have a chance to ride home in his Porsche, just to make sure it really is a 911 GT2.) And it's really, really expensive. I saw some things I liked, but headed out. And went downstairs to Fredrick's. I'm actually surprised they're still around, I thought they had folded a few years ago. I found "exactly" what I was looking for. A three-quarters lacy bra and panties half way between a bikini and a thong. And a shelf bra and pretty thin thong.

The sales lady said I could try on the bras and I could put the panties on over mine. I went in the changing room and slipped off my blouse and bra and put the first bra on. I thought for a second, then slipped off my shorts and sandals and and pull the panties on. The girl asked "how's it going?" and I said "good," and opened the door. She gave me a slight smile and gave a couple of scans up and down.

"Works real good with your boobs. You might want to tighten the straps just a bit. And you'll need to do a little bit of a trim," she said, looking down at my crotch.

I blushed. "Maybe." Then I slipped the panties down and pulled the new ones up. Then unsnapped the bra and took it off.

"Those are nice boobs," she observed.

I put the other bra on and looked at her. She smiled again.

"Good. Very good. Really shows off your nips," she said, still smiling. Then she looked down. "I think you'll need more than just a little trimming."

I took the bra off and pulled my panties and the g-string down.

"I'll take both sets of panties," said and pulled the g-string back up. As I did so, I had the sudden realization that I had stripped down in front of yet another strnager.

"See," she said, as she ran her finger just inside the top edge of the front. "You'll need to shave down below here." Then she shocked me as she slipped fingers into the sides and slid them up and down. "You're gonna have to do a lot of bush whacking here." I felt her fingers brush against my outer lips and gave a slight shudder.

Then she pull them down to mid thigh. "See," she said, "you'll need to trim off all of this. In fact, you might want to go all the way, at least on this part. Maybe leave a strip." The whole time she was talking, she was stroking up and down.

Then she looked up at me. "Gonna try an amateur night? Some guys like it cut away a lot so they can see the lips, some guys like a bush, but trimmed. I'd go with the first one if you're going to do that."

"Ahh, no, it's something else," was all I could say.

"Okay, that's cool. But keep those nips up like they are," she said, gently squeezing my left one. "Everybody like nips up."

"Good ahead and take your time. It's just you and me," she said, with an obvious implication. "Just shout if you need some help. Or maybe if you don't," she giggled.

I stood there, panties almost at my knees. I stroked myself a couple of times, then realized I was in a public place. Getting naked was one thing, having an orgasm was something WAY different.

I bought the undies and headed home.

"Thanks," the sales girl said. "Come again. And again and again," as she laughed.

TO BE CONTINUED ... if I can get off my lazy ass.