Sarah's Journey Ch. 02

Special thanks to my editor, Etaski, who continues to patiently help me raise the standard of my work.

Chapter 2 picks up a few hours after the events of chapter 1.

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I have a long standing rule of not messing in my own backyard, which is why I've flown to this city in the first place. Since I will be using my credit card and ID at the hotel, I view that island of real estate with the same rule.

As I pull into the driveway and stop in front of the entrance to the hotel, I see a valet spring out the door and head quickly in my direction. Mindful of my rule, I check that my hemline is sitting down where it should be. It's okay that he gets a good look at my legs, but I don't want him glimpsing my bare pussy.

I'm ready when he opens my door, and perform a maneuver I learned years ago; the valet enjoyed a very nice view of my legs, but remained ignorant of my pantyless condition.

I'm not trying to be tarty either. I just don't like bras digging into my flesh, and I find the site of a panty-line under a woman's dress or skirt to be very unappealing. I have never been a fan of pantyhose, and I only ever wear stockings for the same reason a woman wears lingerie; items designed for the sole purpose of enticing a male to remove them at his earliest opportunity.

A naughty smile flits briefly across my lips as I remind myself why I am here. In my mind I see pictures of much shorter skirts, blouses that are in various levels of sheerness, but that is for later. Never here in this, my self-designated "safe zone".

Turning to the valet, I dig in my purse for a twenty. "Thank you. I have only one bag in the trunk, and please keep my car handy as I will be going out again soon."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll get your bag and keep your car right up front here." He smiles at me, and there is that glint in his eye that especially young men get after being treated to a good look at a woman they find attractive. Okay, the twenty I gave might have had something to do with it. I smile back and start heading for the foyer. I'm usually very open to such displays of appreciation as they make me feel good. I don't even mind the lewd catcalls and whistling that are pretty much a part of my passing any group of men engaged in an activity they consider manly.

I have often heard women spout off the cliché, "They only want one thing!" To which I always think, "Yeah, what's your point?"

Sorry, just a pet peeve of mine.

Anyway, I get signed in and the young bellhop carries my bag up to my room. He actually has a look on his face which is vaguely hopeful with a hint of lust. He's so sweet, and probably all of nineteen, if that. I reward him with a big smile and a thank you delivered in a soft voice with a twenty. His grin got bigger and his eyes were a little shiny as he stood there not knowing what to do. Not wanting to torment him, I quietly closed the door so he could collect his thoughts in private.

I had showered just before leaving to catch my flight, so all I needed to do now was freshen up. I left the hotel wearing a simple blue sundress with leather sandals and small black evening purse. I had been upstairs less than thirty minutes, so the same valet was still there. On seeing me step out of the elevator he waved and dashed out to bring my rental around. I gave him another smile, and another display of my legs as he held the door for me, then off I drove towards a huge mall I had noticed on my way in from the airport.

There were sure to be several shoe stores there, but my first stop would be for a dress as per the plan. Since it was now early evening, I was thinking about cocktail dresses, little black dresses, something that would be sexy and blend into the night.

Reaching the mall, I found a good parking spot, and headed inside. I had a rough idea of the type of dress I wanted. Probably short to make flashing easier, but otherwise not too revealing. I browsed through the first store I encountered but nothing really grabbed me, so I moved on. The second store I entered was also not working out. I mean, there were plenty of dresses I liked, but none seemed to match what I had in mind for when I experienced this tantalizing activity.

I was just about to leave when this gorgeous mini-dress caught my eye. It was red (my favorite) and had a draping style continuing all the way down to an asymmetrical, loose, and short hemline. The neckline was rounded and held up by a simple halter. The draping would hide even fully erect nipples, and the open back did not reveal too much. It was sexy and yet, except for the shortness, on the conservative side. I thought it was perfect. Dressing like a tart, people will expect you to behave like one. But with this dress on, they will look, but won't be expecting anything unladylike.

I grabbed one in my size and tried it on, performing the usual tests to discern how much bending or reaching I could do before exposing myself. I found I could bend to almost 45 degrees before revealing my intimate secrets; I pictured myself leaning on a railing or something while men walking behind me could stare without fear of me catching them doing it. Being a halter top, lifting my shoulders had a relatively small effect. Raising one hand, like to hail a cab, lifted the hem in a tantalizingly manner, but was safe. Both arms up, however exposed the bottom edge of my ass, and someone sitting might catch a glimpse of pussy... I guess I had best avoid getting involved in a hold up.

I kept it on and asked the girl serving me to clip the tags while I paid for my little Jovani mini-dress. She put my sundress in a store shopping bag, and off I went, feeling sexy and having the perfect excuse to go shoe shopping.

I made a deliberate beeline for the closest shoe store, then slowed and stopped. I was now faced with the imminent reality, and suddenly I was nervous about exposing myself. In the heat of passion, I could open my legs to the view of a new lover without problem. I had flashed myself accidentally, and accidentally-on-purpose on occasion, too. But those events were not the same as this. I could pretend they were accidents, and that makes a difference. I wondered if I could pull off a wardrobe "accident," or would I seem obvious?

A smile touched my lips, a smirk really, as I decided I'd ignore the fact that someone would be looking straight down my legs to my exposed pussy. When a store associate raises your foot to fit a shoe, you generally have to adjust with the movement to avoid exposure. It's automatic and barely rates any conscious thought. Like riding up an escalator, getting out of cars, strolling along elevated walkways... Especially when you are commando most of the time like I am, you build up a whole list of automatic actions, covers, and protections.

Anyway, my point is simply that, in this case, to give my attending shoe salesperson a good look between my legs, all I had to do was... nothing!

With the first anticipatory tingles in my nether regions, I continued towards the store, scanning inside to see what sales staff they had. I noted several women, as you'd expect, and two men. One looked to be pretty young, maybe a high school kid working a part time job, but the other was perhaps middle-aged, with hints of gray in his hair and a developing paunch. It was a no brainer to target him for my first foray into deliberate, close-quarters exposure.

I had stopped at the front windows of the store, and pretended to browse the displays while I watched for the guy to become available. The store wasn't too busy, and there didn't appear to be anyone obviously waiting for him to finish with his present customer, an elderly woman getting a new pair of sensible flats. When I saw her stand with a shoe box in her hands, I casually entered the store and made my way towards the back, ensuring I would intercept him while he escorted the older woman to the counter. As I approached I glanced up as though seeing him for the first time, and gave him a friendly smile. He was already smiling a little and brightened into a full smile as he welcomed me to the store. We passed by and I began to gaze over various displays of heels while figuring it would be about another 30 seconds until he offered to serve me.

1. 10... "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked me.

I smiled brightly up at him (he was quite tall). "Yes, actually. I just bought this wonderful dress across the way, I just had to have it, but now I need shoes to go with it."

So saying I looked down at the offending sandals, rocked back on my heels, and swiveled my feet out and back together, then without raising my head much, I peeked up through my lashes. "Three inch, straps, and open?" I prompted.

He was definitely checking out my legs, but to his credit he was very discreet about it, and did a good job of appearing to simply consider my feet. "Very good. In red?" As I nodded, he continued, "I'll see if I can match the color".

"Sounds great," I said with a bounce and a smile. I told him my size, and with that he ushered me to a seat then excused himself to go grab something that matched my description.

My heart was pumping hard again, belying my outward calm, and the stronger tingling in my pussy betrayed my heightened arousal. I was having a ball and feeling kind of girlish. I sat a little toward the edge of the chair, thinking this would let me lean back a little while being fitted, and thus afford him a better, fuller viewing.

When I saw him returning, I thought to myself, "Here we go!" and had a sudden inspiration! As he took his seat on the stool in front of me, I leaned back some and extended both my legs out in front of me, to his right, and holding my feet several inches off the floor pretended to contemplate my current footwear for a moment, then bounced my feet twice before dropping them back down, but leaving my posture, hips and legs, pointing slightly to his right.

I was becoming excited, but also nervous. I told myself it was just innocent fun. Hah! I was setting myself up to show an unsuspecting stranger my quickly moistening pussy at nearly point-blank range. Innocent, my ass.

"Okay then, let's see how this fits." He reached down to lift my right foot to remove my shoe, and of course brought it to the stool between his legs, moving my right leg over. Resisting the urge to make my left leg follow and tuck under, my knees were now about a foot apart. OMG, my thighs were spread in a public store! I saw his eyes glance between them and had to stifle a nervous giggle.

I was really impressed with his composure. With almost no fumbling, he got my buckle undone and raised my foot to remove it. I think I deserve kudos, too, though. My earlier tingling had jumped to genuine arousal. I was hypersensitive to every sensation, and as he opened my legs I could feel my lips pull in response but resist for an instant, sticking together. They were wet though and immediately lost the battle. It felt like slow motion; I could intensely feel them part from the inside to their outer edge, then seemingly blossom like a flower in an instant, laying back against my larger vulva, eager to share their slippery juice with a hard cock, welcoming it to penetrate my inner sanctum...

I really don't understand why I was so excited. I felt scandalized; the guy wasn't appealing to me, yet if he reached between my legs right at that instant, I don't think I would have stopped him. That admission, that self-awareness fired a bolt of electricity through my whole body. Realizing I wanted a man whom I did not find attractive to take liberties with me was an epiphany. It frightened me, but my skin instantly felt so hot it was burning, my vagina clamped, and I felt the sudden surge of additional wetness.

I reveled in the feeling of doing something so wrong and wanting more! I had become aroused very fast and only the fear of being caught gave me something with which to hold myself in check. Yet in moments the risk itself began adding to the experience; I was feeling kind of displaced from reality and it became difficult to retain my outer calm.

My salesman set the shoe aside on the floor and picked up the new three inch I was going to try. I turned my head towards my bag, which I opened then pretended to rummage around inside. I leaned over a little so my hair fell across the side of my face, but the motion also made my left leg roll outwards and nudged it a little further open. The spread forced my dress dangerously high up my thighs. I had so little material over my lap now I was becoming scared others would see. I thought if I suddenly closed my legs or took other overt action, it would declare my awareness of my exposed state. He had to be suspicious, but better that than certainty.

So despite my fears, I made sure I held my position; a little slouched with my pussy pointing right at him. I knew he would seize this opportunity to take a direct look at my wet, now well illuminated pussy while he believed I could not see him looking. Again, there was the smallest hesitation before he lifted my foot to place it in the new shoe, then he held my foot raised slightly higher than necessary and opened my leg a little more. Naughty man!

He had a clear, close, and uninterrupted display of my pussy. I knew he was looking at me. I was convinced he could read my full, lascivious intent by the blatant arousal of my sex. The knowledge of it all pushed reason from my mind in a lustful haze. Did he know that, right then in that frozen moment, he could fuck me? The bubble would burst a heartbeat later, but right in that mote of time, that eternal instant, if he was fast did he realize that he could drop his pants, pull me to him, and bury his cock in me with his first stroke?

I think I would have arched my back and moaned for him.

Inside my bag, my eyes focused on my hotel key. It reminded me of my reality, and the world crashed back in on me; the moment was over. Have you ever seen that movie, Somewhere in Time, when the character Richard Collier, who has traveled back in time to 1912, finds a "modern" penny in his pocket which pulls him back to 1972? Yeah, a lot like that.

Damn.

Suddenly, I realized how far I was pushing this thing and that I needed to step back from the edge. This was not the place for the next step.

I gave him lots of warning that I was about to turn back to face him, making a "harrumph" as if in frustration with the fruitless search in my bag, before straightening and turning my head to face him again.

He had the strap done up, and asked, "How does that feel?"

I swear his voice had a hint of huskiness to it now. I so love arousing men!

I waggled the shoe around a little. "It feels okay," I said, "let's try the other one."

With that, I put my right foot on the floor and brought my left foot to him, which he captured and guided to its spot on his stool. Of course, now my legs were "properly" together; he could see no more. Once the left shoe was in place, I stood and did several of the obligatory walks forward and back, asking him what he thought, looking at the shoes in the mirror, twisting this way, swinging that way. Oh yes, the color was a superb match. As every woman knows, getting red right first time almost never happens.

I went through several other pairs in different styles and a few black pairs, too. I managed to give him several more "viewings" though nothing as complete as the first one. It was still fun, but I just didn't experience that strange awareness, or intensity, or whatever it was, after the first time. He continued to serve me with amazing self-control, though I could see him watching for more glimpses as the fitting continued.

I ended up buying the first pair he had offered. I hemmed and hawed over a similar black pair, but finally decided against them. I thanked him for his time, and he thanked me graciously for patronizing the store and watched me leave. I did not look back, but I did wonder if his wife would be treated to an amorous evening tonight.

I felt very pleased with myself, and more than a little aroused, when I noticed I was very hungry. Checking the time, I saw it was just after eight and I hadn't eaten since early afternoon. I upgraded that to "starving" and looked around for a food court. I saw tables on the level above, then searched for and found the escalator.

I'm sure you remember my comments previously about "escalator etiquette" in a short dress. Not tonight! I loitered not too far from the escalator, and, under the guise of searching the stores, I instead searched the crowds. I spotted a small group of men walking towards the escalator, and waited till they were about 20 feet away.

If you pay attention, you can always tell when guys spot you for the first time. The change in their conversation, the rapid scan from head to foot. You know. Well, just as they saw me, I "found" what I was looking for on the level above, and nonchalantly stepped on just a few seconds ahead of them.

I ended up about four steps above them and positioned my right foot on the step above me, but displaced to my right, opening my legs a little. With both hands on the rails, I continued to scan the level above, seemingly oblivious of the men feasting on the view up my dress. It was fun but I just didn't feel the expected intensity.

Reaching the upper level I scanned the available restaurants for real. I wanted something quick and "tidy." I hadn't owned this dress for an hour yet and I didn't want food spilled on it. I spotted a Chinese place and figured some glazed Honey Chicken with a little rice would be safe, and went about getting my dinner.

Taking a seat at a small table, I noticed the guys from the escalator were still hanging around, hoping to grab another peek, I guess. I had had fun with my antics but recognized that this environment was not going to give me what I wanted; I wasn't going to get that "tension." I guess flashing your privates would be classed as naughty, not nice, but in the brightly lit, well-populated, rather proper shopping mall, it fell far, far short of my definition. I needed a new, darker setting. Maybe somewhere a little... dirty.

My mind made up, I ate quickly till I no longer felt hungry then tossed the remainder in the trash. I sought out the restroom and glanced back to the food court as I entered. My voyeurs were watching me but had stayed put. Good. Even in a mall a girl has to keep an eye to such things, far more so when you are baiting them as I had done.

The toilets were clean so I did my business then grabbed a feminine hygiene wipe out of my purse. Might seem a bit much, but one can't be too prepared. With my lifestyle I often didn't know until moments before when I was going to have an encounter, so it just made sense to stay as fresh as possible, you know?

I left the stall, touched up my minimal makeup, and checked my hair. Even standing back from the row of mirrors I couldn't get a full length view of myself, but what I could see looked good, so I headed out with a purpose and returned to my car, tossing my shopping bag into the trunk.

It took some time cruising around to find an area that looked interesting. A darker part of town where things were quieter, moved a little slower, but where I'd still be relatively safe. It is never completely safe, of course, and I was in a sense cruising for trouble tonight, but at least it did not look like rapists and muggers hid in every shadow.

This city has a river, and I had found an area where a very wide, cobbled brick riverwalk ran along the bank for, well, miles, as far as I could tell. On the other side of the street were shops of various kinds; I saw a tattoo parlor, a liquor store, numerous tobacco stores and newsstands, and more than a few porn shops, many boasting live shows, movies, and other sordid attractions. I also spotted at least two bars, one of which was pretty close to where I was standing.