People Watching

The Shiny Red Apple, Dollie's dilemma, and cell phones

We never get tired of people watchin or being watched by people. Admit it, you are a people watcher too. An afternoon ride and chance to check out a few quaint old timey taverns and shops reminded me of how our lives have changed.

Recently we stopped at a small bar in a small town not far away. Love livin in NW Florida where small towns are everywhere. Small town bars and restaurants almost always seem to have friendly locals, and a few tourists, all willing to visit and be watched.

Some may not appreciate being watched, or even know they are. MsDollie seems to frequently be among those being watched also. As the paparazzi say, when in public we are public domain.

To be people watched one must do something outstanding, or in some way look outstanding. When looking for an apple in a bushel basket, it's that one apple, redder, larger, rotten, or shaped differently than the rest, that you notice... or even choose. I'm not saying Dollie is a rotten apple. Just one that often stands out.

As digital cameras, small camcorders...and those ever present cell phones with cameras built in... became more and more popular, MsDollie began getting pissed off by their use. Wearing revealing clothing and flashing in the past has always been fun. And for the most part, simply something done just for the moment. Now those moments may live forever through the power of digital technology and computers.

This can be both bad and good, whether you are a good or bad apple! No longer can she, or you, flash in a secluded area, or nearly anywhere, without the chance of having it forever on record. With so many things like Facebook, Flickr, porn and motorcycle sites, and more places to post pictures, you may end up being viewed by grandma across town, or strangers in paradise... even on Literotica in Taiwan.

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Cum with me...

Come along as I give a few samples of Dollie's dilemma, or Dollie's woes, while out and about.

We weren't far from home after 8-10 days of Bike Week in Daytona one year. Dollie was still wearing a very sexy revealing leather bustier and hot pants, same thing she'd worn around 1000's of people during the bike event. Didn't seem to bother her then. Shouldn't bother her now!

We stopped at a fairly large grocery store to pick up milk, bread, and other supplies to tide us over till we could go shopping later that week. Neither of us even thought about what Dollie was wearing. Let me show it wasn't all that different than a few other shoppers. Other than the fact few of them showed much more than a hint of cleavage.

Apparently several bikers were making a food stop on their way home from Bike Week also. As we often do, we swapped event stories with them as we wandered up and down the isles of the grocery store. As others often do, they made a fuss over what Dollie wore and her exposed mammary glands.

This is where the shiny red apple syndrome kicked in. Talking, posing for pictures with bikers shopping, acting kinky, all attracted the attention of other regular shoppers. Dollie was both doing things outstanding and looking outstanding in the crowd of basically fat sloppy dressed grocery getters.

Surprisingly, people began making phone calls. I'm sure a few were actually calling others. But the angle most phones were being held seemed to hint of photography rather than talkin. Making it even more obvious, a few women had their kids standing behind or next to Dollie... as they took pictures of the kids! Yea right!! At least that's what they said when Dollie asked why they were taking her pictures without permission.

Oh, she was pissed! I had to remind her later that when dressed that way, she has to expect stares... and now spontaneous photo shoots. It's progress. I also told her she should take these as compliments. But compliments are not what she gave them. Can't believe that a few of those fat asses didn't start a fight. Yes, they are most often fat ugly women looking like ex-boxers dressed like clowns.

This happened many years ago. Dollie still gets upset when people sneak pictures with those cell phones. At least before they used real cameras and usually people were nice enough to ask to take pictures. All she wants them to do is ask, then she'd probably whip a tittie out for their photo. These sneak cell phone photo shoots have been happening since we moved to Florida, nearly twenty-three years now.

As the world and technology have evolved, us humans have digressed, reverting more and more to the slime we came from. Although now Dollie is beginning to look at these sneaky phone photo opportunities as another way to show off. Sometimes we even see them as people watching challenges, watching people watching... and photographing us.

The funniest parts are hearing the excuses and stories those amateur paparazzi tell. Most times it's "I was taking a picture of my kid, a statue, and more excuses." Or "I was calling a friend." You see some of the oddest positions to hold phones when talking or calling someone. I believe you are normally supposed to hold it near your mouth and ear.

Bike Events and inside biker bars were places we rarely saw cameras in the past. Moving to Florida and attending many bike events and biker bars, this changed. I believe mostly because with the new small digital cameras, taking pictures in dimly lighted bars, and on the street, got easier. Even I bought a digital camera and soon found out taking bar room babe photos could be fun.

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I began this story mentioning stopping at a few small town taverns and restaurants just recently. I also mentioned Dollie seems too often stand out in a crowd. Something about that small-town tavern invited us to check it out. Perhaps I'd read about it someplace, someone told me of the place, or karma was calling. Dollie was wearing tight jeans and a slightly V-cut blouse. Nothing really outstanding and no plans for tit games.

I believe what caught the attention of the few biker's inside were Dollie's boobs jiggling and shakin back and forth as she walked across the floor to sit at the bar. No bra and gravity cause this phenomena. It was howdy and hello by half dozen customers and one lovely lady barmaid.

Everyone except the forty something bartender was around our ages, OLD! After getting our normal draft beer apiece, random conversation began. I have no idea what those guys were doing or talkin about before we got there. But things like the weather, motorcycles, tattoos, ... and boobs were now discussed.

The weather outside was a beautiful warm Florida afternoon. Motorcycles were parked just outside the door, one for each guy sitting on bar stools. Both Dollie and I mentioned how we liked certain bikes and the silver trike sitting there.

Boobs--- Well, the bar babe had a nice rack, a push-up bra causing them to be emerging from her ruffled scooped blouse. Dollie's were now peeking ever so slightly from the V of her V-necked top, as she leaned on the bar.

As our bartender bent over and sat my glass of beer in front of me, I complimented her on her bodacious boobies. In unison, she and most of the six or so bikers likewise complimented Dollie on her endowment. Well, they said something like "nice tits."

This left only tattoos to discuss. One of the observant bikers noticed a small part of one of Dollie's tittie tats showing between her cleavage. As he asked about it, Dollie began asking about their tattoos. Since all of the bikers, and the bar babe, had easy to see tattoos of their own, this became the new main topic of discussion.

"What other tattoos do you have?" Dollie asked the gal behind the bar. The only tat we could see was a small Unicorn on the side of her neck.

Ms. Bartender pulled her blouse down carefully showing us a bit more tit and a rose upon the top part of said tit. Said she also has another rose on her left butt cheek. Dollie mentioned that she does too. At that time neither showed their butt roses.

Tattoo talk buzzed back and forth. Several bikers opened their shirts showing us full back and chest tattoo work. Dollie got kinky. She knows of a few male friends with tattoos on their privates. She asked if any had some on their Penis'. None did... or would at least admit they did.

I told them how Dollie had wanted tattoos for 30 or 40 years and finally got a few last year. Also told how they never hurt her and she wants more. It was only a matter of time now. They all wanted to know what and where Dollie was tattooed. Of course, then they wanted to see for themselves. As bribery, or to get her drunk, a few more beers appeared in front of us. Little did anyone there know, Dollie was going to show them her tattoos anyway. You knew that!

Since her V-necked top was too tight to pull a tittie out the top, Dollie pulled her blouse up above her boobs, exposing both titties and both tittie tats. Almost in disbelief that this old woman was braless and had tattoos on her breasts, comments and compliments flowed like cheap wine. I'm almost sure none of these old dudes were doctors or tattoo artists. But they were all studying Dollie's bird tattoos closely. At least I think that's what they were studying.

I do recollect several comments about those large luscious breasts of hers and how firm they appeared. I also remember Dollie inviting them to go ahead and touch if they want. Yea... they wanted to! Started out innocently enough with a few rubbing her tattoos, then her nipples, then her entire breasts. Then squeezing, as if checking fruit to see if it's fresh.

Don't remember how long this touchy feely continued. Dollie seemed to be enjoying it as much as those horny old biker dudes. Having her breasts looked at excites her and touchy feely causes serious arousal. Those may have been the first boobs they've actually seen bare and up close in years. May have been the first they'd felt in awhile too, by the way they thanked us both and fondled Dollie's boobs.

But, this is supposed to be about cell phone cameras. During this game of tit feeling, one biker got a phone call. He told his friend over the phone what was happening at the tavern. Of course, as old farts do, his friend didn't believe him and thought the old coot was drunk or dreaming.

The biker actually asked us if he could take a few pictures to prove he wasn't wacko. Yes, he asked permission. Dollie and I both thought this was a rather kinky opportunity so didn't hesitate to let his friend take some more pictures as he posed with Dollie.

I do believe there is no one left in this world without a cell phone camera ...except us! Ours is just a phone and my two digital cameras were out in the truck. Most everyone in the bar asked, then began taking tit pictures of Dollie.

Each biker had someone else take pictures as he posed and played with Dollie's titties. Even the bar babe did. Another biker came in during this photo shoot and was amazed by what he saw. Said he'd been coming there many years and had never seen more than a few gals flash in all that time.

Those guys didn't forget about Dollie's butt rose tattoo or the others she mentioned. Wearing jeans makes showing those tattoos difficult and embarrassing. Still, Dollie loves showing her new tattoos. She unhooked her jeans and those bikers were in for another surprise.

For some reason her not wearing underwear shocks and surprises most people. I guess it's because she is now older and supposed to be a lady. First, she only pulled her jeans down enough to show her belly button wreath. Then farther down in back to reveal her butt cheek rose.

Saving the best and kinkiest for last, Dollie carefully lowered her jeans to show all five honeybee tattoos above her honey pot. Again pictures were taken with those stinkin cell phones. But, at times like this, Dollie enjoys those phone cams. Made the game more fun.

From that tavern we drove a short distance to a small diner. As we ordered a light lunch a few of those bikers walked in. My red quad cab truck stands out like a shiny apple among oranges. There had been only a few other older men in there along with the old dude behind the counter who owned the place.

We invited the bikers to join us, which they did. Dollie's tattoos and tits soon became the topic of conversation again. The bikers over emphasized the size of Dollie's titties, making them sound humongous. In today's world hers are only medium.

The old guys who'd been sitting on stools at the counter wanted to see Dollie's birdies. They gathered around the table where we sat. I mentioned that the owner may not like her exposing her breasts in the restaurant. Just the opposite, he said he'd also like to see Dollie's bird tattoos. He'd never seen anything like that before.

As you now know, Dollie loves showing off her birds and her boobs. Without hesitation, she stood up and pulled that V-necked blouse up to her neck again.

When a woman lifts her arms like that her breasts are raised higher and are more rounded. Dollie is usually dressed to flash but today needing to lift her blouse made it even better.

Without asking, cell phone cams began shooting pictures of Dollie's bare boobs. Proving she was enjoying her photo session, Dollie squeezed her tits, bent over, shook them, as many cell phone cameras took aim. It was over in minutes. We then ate, talked about tit games, and said our goodbyes.

A productive afternoon of unplanned booby games. I often write and tell people that to play these games, you have to dress for them. Normally it helps. But, as you see, it is not always a requirement. Many years ago, games like these took hours of planning and waiting just to sometimes make them happen. The nice thing about that recent afternoon, it was a surprise event for us too.

For 50+ years I and others have taken tittie pictures of Dollie. Up till moving to Florida most others had always asked permission. Now Dollie doesn't mind having her pictures taken with those cell phone cameras, or any other type camera.

She's even gotten used to those sneak shot photographers. Although she does sometimes chew them out for not asking, usually getting those same answers... "I was making a phone call". Or "I was taking a picture of my dog", etc.

There is no privacy anymore when you are the red apple among oranges! Just when I think we have played our last booby game, another one happens.