Chapter Two – The Fresh Market
Marti and I spent most of the morning and early afternoon sifting through the local "young women's" clothing stores. "Young women's" is another word for "Girl's hips, cheaply made, fashionable, and overpriced", but that never stopped any woman from shopping in them. You see, even though we get older, we still want to wear younger. The higher prices means lower size numbers for larger sizes. I really wear a size 4, but in these stores and at these prices, I am a size 2. And, of course, everything is "On Sale" which just turns a woman's desire on edge. Even though we know it is a grossly inflated price marked down to double its real value, it makes us feel good. It is like setting our clocks forward several minutes so we will be on time. It is self-delusional marketing and sales at its very best.
I bought a couple chic outfits for myself, as it was my birthday. The best I could say for them was that they were perky. I decided that being perky and 42 is not a bad thing. It is almost like saying young, which at 42 is a good thing. We did wander through a Victoria's Secret (for Marti's benefit) in the mall, and I did pick up a set of lacy dark purple panties and bra. I liked the color as it accented my dark black hair and seemed to bring out the blueness of my eyes. Marti picked up an outfit that could only be called "slightly sluttish" as it was designed not for wearing, but for removal by someone other than ones self. It had peek-a-boo panels for her breasts that were held in place by a small lace loop (one that would release easily). Although I did not get close enough to see, I swear the panties had a slice down the front that would open up like a fly on men's pants only without a zipper.
"Jess, you sure will look elegant in that outfit, if anyone ever sees you out of your clothes." Marti said with a bit of sarcasm in her voice. "If I can keep mine on for more than a few minutes, it will be worth every dime." Marti said as she poked her finger through the front slot of the panties, twirled them around on her finger and let out a few faked moans. The girl has no shame.
The day was only getting better as the blue skies gave way to warm sunshine. It felt good to be alive and walking in the splendor of the day, but alas, it was time to go home. We had one more stop to make; the Fresh Market.
The fresh market was nothing special, although the smells of the fresh fruit and vegetables at every turn of an aisle made it a place I loved to wander, breathing in every different earthy tone I could. Marti and I had decided that after several hours of clothes shopping, we both wanted to pick up some food to replenish our respective food stocks. I had my basket partially full of beautiful salad fixings and was standing in line to pay when I felt a small spasm inside my vagina. Immediately I felt a warm lubrication between my legs and a small gasp escaped my lips. Fortunately, no one heard me.
With every movement of my legs, I could intensely feel both the obvious ease of the movement due to the lubrication, as well as a growing itch inside me that made my body flush, and a sweat to break out everywhere at once. My immediate thought was I was coming down with something, not that I was "cumming" down with something.
The more I tried to ignore the feeling, the more it made itself known. Within a few seconds, I went from being a completely normal person to having my full attention directed to a part of my body that never spoke up, my pussy. It could not have demanded more of my undivided attention than if I had been stung there by a bee. I turned slightly towards the candy stands and away from everyone's direct eyesight and casually, but urgently, and with great pressure, scratched the front of my shorts, directly where the feeling was emanating from.
