What Katie Did in the Parking Station, by Katie_tt - Sex Stories

What Katie Did in the Parking Station, by Katie_tt

You couldn’t call what happened between me and Mr Burgess an affair”, because we never really made love, not physically, but what did happen had a very profound effect on my sex life. Exactly how it affected him I would never know. You may have already read about my inclinations towards exhibitionism, and how I would partly satisfy that urge with role-play with my old friend and lover Alex. (Look for “How I started being an exhibitionist”.) Mr Burgess flickered briefly but brightly into my life shortly after that but I can recall every detail, every feeling, as if it is happening as I write. It began with a simple supermarket shopping trip, and here I will tell you what happened on that first day. My mind travels back to an autumn day in Sydney, the bright afternoon sun still high in a sky which is a clean blue, except for dark clouds gathering somewhere over the sea to the north-east… ======================================== The weather bureau has warned that we are in for one of those incredible Sydney rainstorms, half an hour of bucketing rain, lasting long enough to turn suburban streets into torrents, before the storm vanishes and the sky transforms back to its previous serenity. I have walked the three blocks down to the supermarket, needing just a few things, wearing just a loosely buttoned shirt, short shorts and sandals. I am not wearing a bra because I like the feel of the shirt rustling over my nipples. I know that my breasts still hang nicely, and better still, ...

... I know my bra-less state is obvious enough to make most men- and some women - look at me with appreciative eyes. It is a beach-side suburb, and skimpy apparel is not uncommon in the shopping centre, but it pleases me to know that I attract as much attention, maybe more, than the average bikini bimbo. I have just one Colesworth shopping bag. I am not expecting to buy much and I want to get home before the storm arrives. As usual, in the supermarket I buy more than I’d planned, and in my trolley there is more than one bag load of goodies. What’s worse, I can see the rain has started to come down and I am not looking forward to the prospect of struggling through the wet with an armful of plastic bags. I am waiting in one of the check-0t lines with only one more person between me and the register. There is another line next to this one and I glance across and see that the man next to me, less than a metre away, is staring intently at my top. It does not worry me; instead, I am looking at his face, wondering where I’ve seen him before. I estimate he is around my age, tall, slim, brown hair, a regular face, not film-star handsome but not unpleasant, except for a sadness which may have been as much from the down-turned eyes as from the turn of his mouth. What are you thinking? I ask, but in my mind, not aloud. Wondering how my tits would feel in your hands? Are you getting hard?> Do you want to go to bed with me, or are you content just to go home and jerk off to the memory of my ...