Author's note: This adventure happened in the period before CCTV took over the world!
I walk up to the map in the Shopping Centre where we have arranged to meet. "The Costa near the Southern Entrance" I say to myself, cursing the fact that it could not have been something more straightforward like outside Zara or Boots.
I find the coffee area on the map and realise that it's just around the corner from where I'm standing. I smile at the irony.
As I turn the corner with the bags of my shopping expedition in my hands I see that it is not an enclosed coffee shop, but simply a number of tables in the middle of one of the aisles. As I approach the dozen or so tables I see you sitting there looking out for me. A smile spreads across your face as you see me walking toward you. I smile back and emphasise the sway of my hips. I know full well that as I walk across the wide aisle that your eyes will be feasting themselves on my swaying hips and full, jiggling breasts. I am used to that as, after all, I have been full breasted for the near thirty years since they sprouted on my chest in my teens.
I weave my way through the tables and big planters with tall green plants in them that break up the area a little and provide the customers with a degree of privacy. Your table is beside two planters that are side by side.
You are wearing beige chinos, with boat shoes and no socks, which looks quite sexy. On top, you have a dark blue, button up shirt with two buttons undone showing some dark hairs on your chest. You always are well-dressed in a cool sort of way, but one that is in keeping with your mid-forties age bracket. I am wearing a casual, yellow dress the hem of which is a few inches above my knees. It has brass buttons all the way up the front and I have left the top and bottom two undone. It is quite tight across my chest, but fairly flowing beneath the waist. I am showing a touch of cleavage and as I walk the inside of each leg in turn is exposed up to my mid-thigh. I feel good. In part that is because I am seeing you, in part because I know that I look good in the dress and in another part because of the stares and leers I have been given during my couple of hours of shopping.
As I reach the table where you are sitting, you stand up and pull a chair out for me. We don't touch, shake hands or kiss, they are not part of our game and are not in the rules.
"Tea?" you ask.
My nod and smile as I see that your gaze is on my cleavage that I accentuate by standing up straighter smile tells you that you have guessed correctly. You go over to the counter to get it.
I have a quick look through the results of my shopping expedition, smiling to myself at 'all the money I've saved' with the bargains I have purchased. The therapy of hitting a few shops and getting some good buys, also made me feel good. I looked up and saw you returning, we smiled at each other and I crossed my legs. It was not quite a Sharon Stone, but it was getting on that way; your smile got bigger as you sat down and passed me my cup of tea as you looked at the expanse of bare leg I was showing.
We sat for a while just chatting about this and that, talking about how our shopping has gone. I laugh out loud when you tell me that you've bought a pair of shoes, a pair of trousers and a couple of shirts, and managed to get it all done in less than ten minutes and have been sitting here ever since.
"Oh yes", you say. "And I also decided to treat myself to a new mobile phone".
"And you call me extravagant? I thought you were happy with your Blackberry."
"I was, but I was just browsing around and this Samsung one has loads of gadgets on it. It's where the Blackberry was five years ago, but ran out of steam."
"So I guess you've been sitting here playing with it then?" I ask, half-disapprovingly.
"Well you know ...," you start, but know full well that you are fighting a losing battle so you give up
We continue to chat about this and I see you put your hand under the table and do something on the phone. Just at that moment there's a buzzing noise from within my handbag. I reach inside and pull out my iPhone mobile, looking at the screen as I do.
"Well I don't recognise the number," I say.
"But you certainly recognise the cheekiness," you said smiling as you lift your phone up so I can see the message.
It simply says:
I want to kiss you.
"Oh, I see," I say putting a joking tone of protest in my voice. "And do you often get or send these sorts of messages from mystery texters?"
"Shut up and come here," you say smiling.
And with that you lean forward, over the table. I follow suit and that makes the top of my dress gape. Quite pointedly you look down at say. "Mmmmm nice view."
You put your hand round my neck, your fingers going into and tugging gently on my champagne, blonde, shoulder-length hair. You pull me to you and kiss me passionately, your tongue, though not going into my mouth, but licks round my lips. It is wonderful to feel your mouth against mine. The kiss seems to last forever, neither of us bothered about the fact that there are probably about eight or ten other people sitting nearby.
We break the kiss and sit smiling at each other.
"So what else have you been doing this morning, other than your gadget-shopping?" I ask.
We continue chatting about what we've been with you slightly taking the piss out of women in general and me in particular with the way we shop.
After a while you put your hand in your pocket, take out your phone again and you retrieve the next message that you had typed earlier. I see you press the 'Send' button again
Again a buzzing noise comes from my big 'wags bag. I get my phone out and look at it.
I think a rather shocked expression came onto my face as I read the text.
Let you see your bra
"You are a very cheeky man!" I say quietly, but feeling little tingles of excitement go through me "I can't just sit here and flash it to you can I?"
"Yes you can," you reply. "Just undo a button or two of that dress and let me see inside".
I raise an eyebrow and give you a sternish look, at first not quite sure whether I'll respond to the challenge or not, but deep down I know that I will.
I look around to see how close other people are to us.
"But what if ..." I start to say.
You interrupt my protest. "No-one else will see," you say.
The top two buttons of my dress are already undone. I unbutton the third one and lean forward slightly.
"And just what am you supposed to be able to see with that?" you ask.
I tut at you and undo another of the buttons, leaning forward again.
"Nope" you say.
I take a breath and then exhale disapprovingly. I have another look around, take another breath, and then undo a fifth button. You lean forward once more and take hold of the neck of the dress, opening it up so you can see inside. I panic a little thinking that someone will see, but that panic is also a surge of excitement for in some ways I would like that.
You smile as my white, lacy, diaphanous bra greets your gaze. It is low cut across each of my C cup breasts and the lace tipped edges barely cover the edges of my areola that I know are visible through the delicate material. I know equally well that my nipples, which for sure will have hardened, will be on display to your enquiring eyes.
"Mmmm," you say. "Verrrry nice"
"Happy now?" I ask, somewhat reluctantly I have admit, sitting up and starting to re-fasten the buttons.
"Yes thank," you reply. "You're doing very well..................," you add before going on with. "So far".
I shake my head in a mock, disbelieving fashion as I do up the lowest button, the fifth one. Despite my protests you can tell that this isn't totally against my will. Looking down, I see that the two buds of my aroused nipples are clearly evident through the material of dress. I complete the fourth button and my fingers go to the third when you say quite sharply.
"No leave it."
I look down again and see that the swells of each of my breasts above my bra are clearly on show as is the edges of the bra and my deep cleavage. Nowadays, showing that much is not out of the question so for your pleasure and titillation and my excitement I do as you say and leave the three buttons undone. It makes me feel good, sort of liberated and empowered, perhaps like women felt in the sixties when 'burning your bra' was apparently all the rage.
Just as I finish, your phone buzzes again.
"Oh what next!?" I ask, picking the phone up.
Let me put my hand between your legs
"Oh that one's not so bad," I say confidently.
I take hold of the arms of the chair I'm sitting on and shuffle it forward toward you.
You lean forward and put your hand on my knee. Moving your head close to mine so that to anyone looking, it would appear as though you was whispering in my ear, your hand slides off the top of my knee to the inside of it.
Looking me in the eye you trace your fingertips ever so gently along the inside of my lower thigh.
I bite my lower lip, bend the top of my body and turn my legs towards you as your fingers go higher and higher. They reach my upper thigh and linger, stroke and squeeze it just a few inches from where we both want them to be. My pussy feels as though it is pulsating and radiating heat that I wonder if you can feel? They resume their journey and inexorably go further towards that special place. They can be no more than an inch or so from the gusset of the lace and satin panties covering my wet and throbbing womanhood. I open my legs a little.
Suddenly from behind me there's a scraping noise as someone pushes their chair back and gets up to leave. Your fingers halt their progress, but thankfully are not removed. I see you looking behind me and, presumably, when you see the person has left, your fingers continue their relentless progress. You start tracing tiny circles on the top of my inner thigh.
I feel my breathing getting heavier and heavier. I want to close my eyes, lean back and moan at the pleasure, anticipation and excitement you are giving me.
And then your fingers come into contact with my panties. That makes me jump and I see you smile. My eyes are half closed and my mouth is open a little. I have now reached the point when I have no idea whether anyone can see what we are doing, but more importantly I now do not care; I just want more and more of what you are doing.
I shift back slightly in my seat and your hand follows me, like a limpet crab clinging to my pussy.
You twist your hand round and rub your fingers firmly up and down the gusset of my panties, which I know are soaked. It feels so good. I want to lean back further, spread my legs wide and cup and squeeze my tits as you finger fuck me to an orgasm. But of course I don't
"Oi!" I protest. "That wasn't part of the 'challenge'."
You ignore my protest and continue rubbing my satin and lace-covered pussy.
I am biting my lip and gripping my chair so hard that I am worried that I'll draw blood and break my fingernails. I can think of nothing other than. 'He's rubbing my cunt in the middle of a shopping mall and I am loving every second of it.'
After several glorious rubs you stop and bring your hand back out from between my legs and beneath my skirt. You lift it to your face and inhale my feminine scent. A broad smile spreads across your face.