Dress Off: Sasha vs Tara (Part 1) - Sex Stories

Dress Off: Sasha vs Tara (Part 1)

... come on!” Sasha objected, “I’m in the public toilets, and I would only have been here for a minute if you hadn't interrupted me!” “Well, that’s certainly one way of looking at it.” The voice commented, giving no room for doubt from their tone that there were other, far more compelling ways of looking at it that they were greatly in favour of, “However, a stall in a public toilet isn’t public enough I fear, and the tragedy of all of this is that you’ve already had a penalty warning.” “What?! That makes no sense! I want to lodge a protest!” Sasha cried indignantly, forgetting all about Tara for a moment as the injustice of this latest hurdle hit her like a kick in the teeth. “Of course, of course, that is your right and we here at Decider Enterprises do pride ourselves on our fair and just process of disputes resolution,” the voice continued smoothly, and far too glibly for Sasha’s liking, “so please rest assured that after the conclusion of our game your protest will be dealt with through the appropriate channels, etc etc.” “After?!” Sasha chipped in, “How’s that going to help me now?” “Well,” said the voice slowly, “it would be a little bit difficult to do anything about it now, seeing as how I triggered the penalty about three whines ago. Besides,” the voice brightened up, “surely you don’t want to be waylaid any longer by talking about this now, when Tara moves further ahead of you with every minute you waste debating this with me.” Sasha’s mind was suddenly brought back to ...

... the more immediate threat, and she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine as she wondered if Tara had figured out the third clue yet. She silently cursed the voice in the earpiece one more time for good measure, and then reached down to pull up her black lycra running shorts and the baggy red shorts. It was at that point that her panicky thoughts about Tara were rudely interrupted by the sudden shock of her hands encountering something wet and soggy. She looked down in despair, wondering if the toilet had overflown, only to be greeted by the even worse sight of her baggy red shorts seemingly disintegrate in front of her eyes. “What the hell?!” Sasha exclaimed, as the once solid clothing broke away and covered the stall floor in a soggy red mess. “You’d be warned Miss Sinclair, and can I suggest that you not loiter around to ponder the matter further, as I strongly suspect Miss Tennyson is en route to the next clue.” Sasha grimaced, grabbed the body-hugging – and far too small for her preference – black lycra running shorts, and burst out of the stall as she yanked them up. A very confused older lady was still waiting outside for her turn, unable to make her mind up whether she should be irate or just very confused over the 20-odd year old in revealing, skintight clothing, who had barged past her earlier and who had then proceeded to hold a very strange one-sided conversation indeed. Sasha raced out of the mall and turned onto the street towards the larger public toilets in ...