Slow Day

The day was cold and gray. The only upside was that the cold and snow meant less traffic and people about so it was quiet. On the downside, it was boring. I was halfway reclined on the couch surfing the channels on the TV hoping against hope. It yielded nothing of interest so I stared blankly out the window. The falling flakes danced on a gentle breeze as they fell lightly to the ground.

That lasted for all of five minutes and I was back to my boredom. Buster, my cocker spaniel, lay sleeping on a rug and not interested in any kind of play. I raised my leg and gave myself a couple of swipes. It had possibilities but even that seemed old hat and routine. I hate that feeling. Very much wanting to do something but knowing it won't be quite as good as you think if even worth the effort. I needed something to jazz things up.

I thought for a moment then got an idea. I went upstairs and dug out an old blue skirt I hadn't worn for some time. I turned it inside out and took scissors to the pockets. I slipped out of my clothes and put on the skirt with a blue and white striped blouse. I finished dressing and making myself presentable in public then drove to the mall.

Walking from the car to the front door made me seriously reconsider my decision regarding underwear. When a strong gust blew through, I had two reasons to be glad the skirt hung down passed my knees. Oh, why aren't there ever any parking spaces closer to the door?

I bathed in the rush of heat for a moment when I entered the building then noticed the sounds and smells. Video games blasted from the Arcade mingling in the air with the aroma of fresh bread and cookies. People walked about doing their shopping.

I slipped my hands into what used to be my pockets and strolled casually looking in the shop windows. I glanced nonchalantly around then gave myself a quick swipe with a finger. A jewelry store had samples displayed in the window in the traditional black trays and I took a chance backing up so I could better see my reflection in the glass as everyone else sees me.

I felt it might be best if I used one hand to avoid the front of my skirt bouncing while I had my play with the other. And just to make it interesting, I would linger at shops where I would have to bend forward to get a better look at their wares. I used the opportunity to give my clit some play. At one shop, the shopkeeper came out to talk and try to make a sale.

Little did he know that my fingers were probing inside myself feeling the wetness build and teasing my clit for all it was worth. His practiced speech made for the perfect cover of my moans. What he thought was genuine interest was the growing fire I was fanning with each stroke. The look of shock on his face when I left without buying anything was priceless.

A blonde walked by going in the opposite direction. We exchanged smiles. I felt a sharp jolt shoot through as my eyes glanced down at her more than adequate bosom. A part of me wanted to approach her and make friends with her. Hopefully, good friends. I took a quick glance back and was thrilled again at the sight of her jeans hugging her butt as though one was made for the other.

Looking around at the people gave me sensations all over my body I had never felt before. Even my hair felt somehow electrified. It was intoxicating. I felt light-headed and wanted more. My breathing deepened. My body quivered slightly but not so as to notice and my heart pounded within my chest.

I could feel my juices trace thin streams down my fingers. I needed release but I knew I couldn't do it here. A nearby clothing store provided the perfect solution. The elderly greeter smiled and I smiled back. I roamed the store casually then stopped beside a circular rack of clothes next to the wall waiting for the inevitable.

"May I help you", the clerk asked with a broad smile.

I had to stifle a laugh at the question letting only a polite smile to show on my lips. It didn't help that she had a steadfast look of eagerness on her face and her eyes were wide with an undeniable glint of willingness. You would think that she would have done anything to please.

"No, thanks. I'm just browsing."

"Okay. If you need me, I'll be over here," she said pointing.

My mouth may have said, "no thanks" but my mind was saying, "yes, get down on your knees and please me". She walked away and I stepped between the rack and the wall. I spread my legs slightly to let my fingers back in. I rifled through the clothes as though my moans were sounds of approval at the selection just as I had earlier.

A rather noticeable "Oo" slipped out. Thinking fast, I grabbed the first hanger I could lay my hand on and removed it from the rack so it would appear I was getting a closer look. A quick glance around showed that no one seemed to pay it any mind.

I could feel the fire growing. It would not be long now. I bent slightly to allow a more inconspicuous freedom of movement with my hands and I took full advantage of it. No matter what, I was getting too close to stop now. My fingers worked their magic in anticipation of what was to come. My clit happily sprang against my vigorous strokes.

"Lillian, hi. I am so glad I ran into you," a voice said.

I straightened and turned. It was a friend. She turned and began fishing something out of her purse. At the moment I saw who it was, I felt a deep, sharp stab of pleasure as my orgasm began. The sensation was almost more than I could bear. I wasn't sure if I could at all.

"I had it here the other day," my friend muttered under her breath.

My body quivered from top to bottom. My legs became weak and wobbly. I resigned myself to enjoying it no matter what. It was all I could do from calling out. Somehow, the feeling of being "caught" made it all the more pleasurable as well as it happening right in front of her.

It seemed to take forever to pass. Like every second was a minute. My heart beat so rapidly in my chest that I thought it would stop altogether. I was thankful that the view from the register was blocked by a "$1.00 OFF" sign on top of the rack as the milk of my passion flowed forth.

"Here it is."

My friend drew an envelope from her purse and handed it to me. I wiped my hand off on my leg as I took it from my pocket and reached for it. I wanted to take it and put my hand away as quickly as possible but she saw things differently. She held onto it even after I grabbed it.

"It's an invitation", she said, "to our annual New Year's Eve party. I debated about having to go to the trouble of having it printed up since you know you're always welcomed at our house."

I thanked her and she excused herself to run more errands. Feeling relaxed and very pleased, I casually walked toward the door still basking in the afterglow. My legs were still a bit shaky but I did what I could to hide it. A couple of klip-klops behind me heralded someone's shoe slipping a bit as they walked through where I had stood.

"Thank you for stopping by", the cashier called out, "Come again."

"Oh, I intend to," I replied.

A quick stop at the rest room to wash up and it was back home.