Helen's Morning After

Helen's Morning After Part Two

She listened with horror to the instructions. They were calmly conveyed to her. Forthright and seemingly the easiest thing in the world to complete, delivered in an expectational tone. Not overly long but carelessly minimizing what was a mountainous obstacle.

Through the gap she had made between the curtain and doorframe she could see that it was him giving them, could see his mouth move in correlation to the words she was hearing. Could almost hear him speaking them without the necessity of the phone. She just had problems believing them. Comprehending them. Embracing them.

Despite the fact she had not long cum, annoyingly, she moistened up again between her legs. She could feel it. The smell of it now quite prevalent.

Why did her body need this humiliation?

Why did it always respond like this, seemingly craving it as though a fix?

Here she was, a tallish woman on the wrong side of 45, in a women's fashion store wearing five inch white stilettos, a short denim skirt and the sheerest of blouses.

She wore no underwear which put her at risk of exposing her newly purchased jewellery which was dangling from a neat pair of rings in either of her labia. She wasn't exactly unforgettable in her appearance. She wasn't a waif. Couldn't exactly slip unnoticed anywhere.

It had been a real emotional journey of self discovery to this point, but the next few steps seemed like they were going to be the hardest yet. These actual steps!

She clicked the call-end button on the phone and replaced it calmly in the small handbag that lay on the bench slats and assessed her situation.

Currently, she was in the small changing booth... hiding perhaps, at the back of a popular women's fashion shop. The small handbag was the only thing in the cubicle space with her except for the store's clothes that she had been trying on.

Task completion was possible. She thought about it for a second, steadying her nerves. Everything today had at first glance seemed too much, only to be found easier with a little planning and fortitude of spirit.

Her breasts were pretty much on full display beneath the flimsiest and most pointless material ever. Who would ever wear this? Why would they want their bra showing? Maybe a clubbing millennial perhaps or a very risque woman. Imagine being caught in the rain wearing it; it would be completely transparent with even a couple of droplets. May as well be naked.

The dress she wanted; the dress she had come in to the store wearing, was in her tall lover's hand over by the till. Alongside the store assistant. It wasn't far but it might as well have been a hundred miles of hostile territory.

Obstacles and trip hazards.

Security cameras.

Critical or nosey eyes or virtuous prudes.

She contemplated his simple instruction.

Fetch the dress, he had told her.

Fine for him to say that. He was wearing jeans and a collarless shirt that made him look very handsome as it happened. She on the other hand had her whole torso on full display. Her breasts were highlighted in this ridiculous garment. Emphasized even. She would have felt less self-conscious completely topless.

Maybe picking up a random other garment and holding it before her would be enough? But he might take issue with her spoiling the game. That might entail a punishment.

Maybe an arm across herself would suffice? A carefully positioned forearm would obscure view of her flesh.

Maybe both hands holding a breast each. No, that would be too obvious. Cupping each and walking across the sales floor would scream the words 'look at me'. Like she wanted to show everybody her assets.

She tried each look. The single arm hid the main meat of her chest, and from her viewpoint would leave a little cleavage and slight under-boob on display. She wondered how it would look for others. Wondered where the ceiling cameras were and whether they were operational.

At least she had a skirt on.

At least her pussy was not on view.

At least she had some modicum of decency.

She practiced for a few moments and wondered how it looked. Nonchalantly. Carelessly. First holding and carrying the bag. Now, without the bag?

Panicking slightly because the shop was still empty for the moment, she knew she had to make a decision. If she put it off much longer, the store might fill up.

Without the bag, she decided. Holding the bag across her chest didn't look natural. She chided herself and realized that she needed to get going. One more deep breath then she purposefully pulled back the curtain.

She exited the booth and strode purposefully across the sales floor towards the till, her one hand looped around the opposite back-of-her-neck, like it was aching and needed a subconscious massage. Her eyes were fixated on her man and she prayed that no one else was going to enter the store.

Her forearm across her pert breasts prevented them from bouncing. She was aware of the breast in the crook of her arm escaping slightly and expected that its stiff nipple was now visible. She dare not look. Her arm clamped the other breast slightly higher than it's usual resting place.

The skirt swirled in a pleasurable way with each step, an air-conditioning breeze attacking her very open and damp crack between her legs. Conscious of how it felt as she strode across the floor, she liked it. Despite the situation she was very turned on.

Despite the situation?

Maybe it was due to the situation.

Shit!

Customers.

A middle aged couple were at the store front looking through at the clothed mannequins on the window stages. They seemed preoccupied with each other and the object of their interest, but if they looked up, she was directly in their eye line.

A girl now in the entrance.

Youngish. Attractive. Trendy. Judgemental.

On her phone and oblivious. Whew!

Where were they all coming from?

The distance between booth and desk hadn't seemed that far before she started walking, but she was panting heavily now and could feel her heart racing with her predicament. There was no going back. No pleading for him to change his mind. No point but to finish the journey.

Her eyes flicked to his face.

His cheeky, conniving face.

He knew what he was doing to her.

But she couldn't help her own smile at the smiling pleasure on his face. Broad and happy, it was lit up like a beacon. His soft blue eyes radiated his delight. His hunger for her.

She must have looked an unforgettable sight marching across the carpet floor but the assistant was not privvy to it as she was still looking away checking out a clipboard of duties or something similar. Feeling lucky now, this was going to be easy. What on Earth had been the problem?

The couple the other side of the window were not acting like they had seen her and the girl on the phone was twisting off to check out a display the far side of the shop, obviously still engrossed in a text conversation.

All was good so far.

She was returning to her comfort zone.

Her breathing was returning to normal.

This was a breeze.

Reaching him, he silently held out the white dress with the large red flowery pattern that was actually hers. He had folded it neatly and was passing it as a small package.

She reached out her free hand for it but he pulled it away. Bastard! It made her take another half step forward. Rising panic again. What was he doing?

She reached again but was rewarded with his raised eyebrows rather than a relinquished dress.

Fine!

She took her hand from her neck and almost felt her breasts bounce down, free from constriction once more. Instantly aware of her exposure, she stretched out that hand instead and this time was rewarded with her dress.

Her exposed bare breasts were in plain view of anyone who cared to see them. The assistant mere feet away. The couple in the window. Even the girl on her phone could have an eyeful if she wished. Exposed. Exhibited. Displayed yet again.

He didn't release his grip.

She couldn't take it.

She was exposed standing beside a complete, oblivious, stranger.

It was only moments, but it felt like minutes.

The shock displaying on her face contrasting the mischievousness on his.

He let go.

Shaking her head with a smile of relief, she turned and made her way back to the changing area, clutching her own dress across her body.

A backward look ensured that apart from the disinterested store assistant who was now rearranging a display in the window, obviously a task on her work sheet, they were pretty much alone. The couple in the window had disappeared and she was shielded from phone girl by numerous racks of clothing.

Confidence swelling inside.

Her own sense of mischievousness.

Her own right to tease.

She paused in the doorway to the changing area and stood with legs apart. She felt safe. Sanctuary and decency was hers with just another two steps.

Another look around.

The only eyes were his.

She flicked her skirt up behind her to expose her buttocks. He smiled.

She bent at the waist and touched the floor with her hands.

Helen didn't know why she did it. It hadn't been a preconceived plan or a goal of hers. It just seemed a fun thing to do. In her defence her emotions were in brand new territory; she was feeling extremely naughty. It seemed that her pussy was calling the shots, a tickle of constant arousal playing on her, competing with her brain for control.

The crack of her pussy through to her ass opened wide, the rings bearing the jewellery freed themselves of her natural moist stickiness and separated allowing the attached drop earrings to dangle enticingly below her open anus.

She felt slutty.

She felt very slutty.

She felt in charge.

Twisting to make sure she could see his reaction and reaching around, she softly smacked her own ass. She allowed a couple of sharp spanking sounds to emanate and leave a slight red handprint that would soon fade from her flesh.

Standing up again to enter the booth, the last thing she saw before swishing the curtain back into place, was him coughing and choking slightly, the assistant obviously asking if he was all right.

...

They left the shop giggling again together. He was now carrying a plastic carrier with the skirt that they had decided to have. The blouse had been fun they decided but not something she would have occasion to wear.

As much fun as it had been, she was back in the Summer dress and feeling more secure. Using one of his clean handkerchiefs, she had been able to surreptitiously mop up her arousal and dry her lower lips and the new jewellery. It had only just been purchased and had already been soaked several times.

More people seemed to be packing the concourse now and progress was much slower. Looking up, the gallery walk was a lot busier. The memory of her earlier activities still fresh in her mind, it brought a naughty grin of happiness. Perhaps fate had been smiling on her for now those exploits wouldn't be possible.

Looking around and enjoying the stroll she was aware that he had paused her at another store.

Shoes!

She had begun to love shoes.

No longer just functional footwear, but the right ones could give a body altering confidence boost. Since she had started regular exercise, she felt like she wanted to showcase her shape a little. Heels were the ultra-feminine way of doing so.

Looking through the window, they saw the collection of training shoes, smart male brogues and in the second pane, a variety of attractive heeled and practical flat women's shoes.

The decision was made to enter; it was time for another purchase. She wondered what he had in mind for her in this establishment. What rite of passage he had for her during this next acquisition.

Hand in hand, they entered through the blast of hot air that portaled the door, and looked up for hanging signage that would indicate where they needed to head. Tall racks surrounded them of the latest bargains and current fads.

She already had a few pairs of simple elegant high heeled court shoes in a couple of different colours but since her recent thirst for wearing them, it had been at the back of her mind to experiment more with design. Straps around her ankles and maybe a buckle; a variety of material or finish perhaps.

He leaned to her ear and whispered his instruction for this part of the shopping trip. An expectation for this shop.

Oh great. Absolutely fantastic.

He had a real knack for upgrading what otherwise could be an ordinary event to one that kept her focused and aware. Centred her mind and eroticised everything. Would give her memories to appreciate and recall in glorious detail on the nights she was alone and in need of personal time but created a usual leak between her legs right now.

Don't sit on the dress.

Her mind was going crazy now. One of the most crucial and inherent necessities when shoe shopping, was to sit down to change and try them on. The banks of chairs and bench seats were there, to sit on. Down the middle of the shop. In the spaces between the racks and alongside full length and floor mirrors.

Don't sit on the dress.

It was wrapped around her, covering her bottom and down almost to her knees. To not sit on the fabric of her dress would mean... would mean?

Her brain clicked over and into gear. She knew exactly what he was asking of her. A fresh challenge now. Another future delicious reminiscence that would stay with her the rest of her life. Another opportunity to live a moment that she never, in her wildest dreams, ever expected to have.

Deep breaths, Helen. You can do this; her inner voice calmed her as always. The inner confidence was there a lot these days. Always offering a solution to achieve what at first seemed impossible.

Smiling to betray the remaining mild panic once again, she paused to kiss her man. He responded, surprised but grateful. It was always a concern that each task was potentially a step too far for her, but she allayed his worried expression with a smile, a nod and her own eager expression.

She had, after all, complete faith in being in the safety of his company. She decided, once again, to embrace the moment and to see what happened. Too often in her life she had found herself always saying no to potential new experiences... feeling now like she had missed out. Not any more.

First things first though...

Finding shoes that she liked, that would fit her and that she wanted to try on. She always fancied a snake skin clubbing style high heeled pump. Today was the day for ticking that box.

They strolled down the aisles picking and pointing at the merchandise on display. Several were plucked from the shelf, sizes checked and replaced. Designs contemplated and dismissed.

A pointed toe high heeled Court shoe was found; a design they liked. It was an abstract print. It looked pretty. A hovering young male assistant came over and quickly assessed their needs. A young man in his early twenties, he was obviously a new employee, and quick on his feet considering the speed he left their vicinity on the search for the box of the correct size she needed.

Deep breaths again as Helen was steered to the closest side wall where there were three spare unoccupied seats between the long wall racks.

Grateful for his consideration, she nervously checked the aisle for any eyes noticing what she was up to. Turning her back to the chair, her hands on the material at her waist, she slowly and cautiously lifted the skirt from around her bottom.

No one was watching.

Using his large body as a shield and in one fluid motion, she bent and crouched to sit. Hooking the last of the dress from around her bottom she finished the movement by sitting squarely on the velour covered seat. Quickly, she squished the material down and around her hips to hide as much of her flesh as possible, glad that her skirt was quite flexible and accommodating. Stretching nicely after the times it had been on and off so far that day.

She heard the quiet chink of her lower jewellery tapping against the metal frame of the chair and inwardly giggled. Shuffling her bottom she felt the drag on her clit and bit her lip as the sharp feeling of sudden arousal flooded her.

Nervously she looked down and around herself, a pat down of the dress at her bottom prevented a draft through the gap in the back of the chair. Then checking that the dress was pulled across her knees, she placed her hands in her lap, pushing the material into any space remaining between her legs, and resting her fingers on her labia to quieten them.

The lad was not long. Bustling back between the racks of clothing, he was knelt down and removing the shoes from the protective white tissue paper around the correct size shoes before they realised it. Standing each heeled shoe in front of her as a pair, he stretched out to take her first foot.

Surprised she stretched forward her leg and felt him slip the old shoe from her foot and exchange it for the new one.

He seemed intent on the operation. He was looking down. She was grateful but oddly slightly disappointed. Felt comfortable, yet naughty enough to want to tease. He was of average height; a fair haired, good looking lad.

A trendy haircut of someone who had the time and resources to keep it nice.

Residual acne and the gangly nature of someone still coming to terms with their body and sporting the mild facial fuzz of someone desirous of their first beard.

She felt nothing particularly for the person a foot or so away from her; a person much less than half her age, but the predicament she found herself in was causing the usual flutter of excitement.

Her eyes fixed on her own man. They shared the gaze, an unspoken calming communication as the lad reached for her second foot.

Helen didn't know why she did it. Under torture there still would not have been a definitive answer. All the experiences up to this moment this morning had left her more sexually charged and carefree than at any other time in her life. There was only one move to make, and it changed her perception of herself completely.

She took her hands from her lap and held the leading edge of the chair either side in order to push her foot home in the new shoe. This deliberate and simple act had the effect of leaning her forward and disturbing the hem of her dress and separating her thighs.

They both saw the lad's eyes flick up to the clink of her jewellery, and then widen slightly. There was no way he had a good view, but his attention had been drawn by the sound and most likely the glint of light on the shiny inset stones on the drop earrings.

No horror.

No disgust.

No disappointment.

Helen watched with unbridled glee as both her man's eyes, and the young man's eyes, widened in disbelief. She couldn't believe herself either. What was the worst that could happen? The exit was literally just there. No one knew her. She didn't recognise anyone in the shop. If it all went sideways, all she had to do was just grab her own stuff and go.

But she was feeling feisty now.

The second shoe was being put on. The lad, bless him, was looking uncertain. Possibly conscious of her tall, imposing looking bloke behind him, he obviously didn't know where to place himself. He was trying to act impervious but obviously wanted a confirmatory voyeuristic second look.

Mischievously she waggled her leg side to side to square her foot in the shoe, fully aware that this shimmied her thighs and caused the jewellery to rattle once more.

Her man was looking away desperately trying to keep a grin from his face. The lad on the floor unbalanced slightly from his position almost on all fours, but started to collect the discarded tissue paper together to hide it.

She stood up.

Normally a simple and uncomplicated procedure, the fact that she had been sitting on her naked bottom threw a slight spanner in the works. Her hand ready at her waist simultaneously pulled the skirt back down over her bottom as she rose to full height.