Thanks for the comments and the interest in my continued confessions.
The wardrobe items in the box that arrived that afternoon before our date were not what I was expecting at all. I don't mean that in terms of size or brevity. I suspected Rod was enjoying the idea of skirts that would be challenging when it came to involuntarily exposure of my most private areas, and tops that were too tight. No, it was style and what wasn't in the box that caught me off guard and made me almost break out in a sweat. For one thing, the micro mini skirt was faded denim. Next to it was a pair of western, cowboy style boots, ankle high socks and a red and white checked "country girl" style snap button blouse. What was missing was even more disturbing.
What was missing was a bra and any underwear at all.
I don't know which was worse, knowing that I was going to have to go out dressed like some slutty, redneck, hillbilly milf or the fact that without a bra my big boobs would be obscenely banging around under the top and without panties, under so short a skirt, I was almost assured I'd flash someone.
Regardless, I knew I had no choice. He had told me to wear what he sent and only that. I went into the bathroom and undressed, took a shower, trimmed down below and dried off before getting almost as a delay before the inevitability of getting "dressed." Just putting the skirt on was a struggle. At first, I pulled the waist up to the normal anatomical margin, but that actually exposed the briefest hint of shaved labia. I pulled it down to right at my hip bones and found that the hem ended up just above mid-thigh.
It was not a modesty assuring compromise.
I picked up the top and slipped it on. It was almost sleeveless and made from a cheap material. I snapped the buttons. Snaps. Those were dangerous. One good tug and they would pop open. As I finished snapping them closed, I caught a look at myself in the mirror and almost couldn't take it. I looked like some slutty extra from the Dukes of Hazard or a poster girl for red state hussiness. I sat down on the edge of the tub and picked up a cowboy boot. Raising my leg to put it on I saw something that made a slight gasp of outraged alarm escape me involuntarily.
At that angle, with just that simple a move, I saw a complete flash of pussy. Absolutely no doubt at all what was on display. There was an undeniably very intimate, very definitive view of bald lips made even more noticeable by the stark tanline paleness. I instantly dropped the boot and closed my legs tightly.
Then I hazarded a look at the mirror again
Even seated in as guarded and prim a manner, my vulva was barely protected from view. Any move at all and it would be, Hello Brittany! I crossed my legs, the transition was a flash, but once crossed even though a great deal of upper thigh, and almost bunnage was showing, my vagina was hidden. I tried uncrossing so as to minimize the interval of exposure, but it was depressingly futile. In this skirt, I was going to give someone an insight they didn't deserve, and I didn't want to provide. The helplessness of it was overwhelming for me.
With a sinking sense, I picked up the boot and pulled it on. My thighs parted and I gave a mini gyno show, as Rod had laughingly called it. Once I had both on, I stood up, but again the transition from seated to standing showed me that in the future it would be an opportunity for any pervy observer to cop a look where they shouldn't.
In a way I wished I hadn't had the insight into what others could see. On the other hand, I had some consolation that I did know how to minimize the exposure and shame. Of course, that depended on what exactly Rod had in mind for our date. If I had known what was coming, I am not sure I could have gone through with it.
Making sure that my son was in his room and engaged in his interactive online game, I slipped out of the bathroom and walked to the den at the other end of the house. I waited. It seemed like forever. Then I heard the knock on my door and with a strange sense of comingled relief that I was going to be getting out of there and avoiding an encounter with my son, and with the dread that I was about to be seen like this by Rod,
I jumped up and opened the door.
The look on Rod's face almost made me knock-kneed with embarrassment. He did a comprehensive look up and down and then... he grinned. The wave of vulnerability and helpless embarrassment washed over me again, and my nipples tensed and knobbed ridiculously. It did not go unnoticed.
"Whew, guess someone just took a little chill," he all but chuckled. "And yet you look so hot"--his grin widened as he added with a slightly snarky note-- "in a Kentucky Fried, banjo-shaped, marital aid kind of way."
I wanted to slap his face, but before I could manage to say or do anything, he leaned in, wrapped an arm around my lower back, planted a hand squarely on my ass and kissed me deeply on the mouth. It took me completely by surprise and I yielded to it, as though my submissive nature was just taking over.
Now this may make zero sense to some, but ever since the escapade on the football field, and his attitude and handling of it and me, the dynamic of me as a self-assured, confident, powerful career woman and mom had just been completely subverted and neutralized. Around him, I found myself powerless, obedient even as I really was protesting against it in my mind and soul. I was baffled at myself. And even more outrageous than that, the more condescending and snarky and smug he was with his casual domination, the more my body reacted. It was so conflicting! I just seemed incapable of resisting now.
Before I could indulge in any more analysis, I felt his hand slip downward and he lifted the hem of my skirt. That didn't take much until I felt the draft on my most private area followed by his inspecting hand. He broke off the kiss.
"Oh, perfect," he said and then he looked down at my big barely supported tits that were still knobbed out like couple of number two erasers. "I got to see you walk"
He stepped back indicating I head to his car. It was a warm sunny day, and he had the top down on his sport coupe. I took a step. My big tits heavily but gently bumped against each other in a very obvious response to my ambulation.
Rod groaned with delight and stood there as I walked past so he could also get the backside perspective. Reflexively, I reached down and tugged at my hem for some futile effort at modesty. I was dying. It only got worse when we arrived at the car door and Rod rushed around to open it for me. His car was very low clearance, which was good in that I would not have to step up to get in, a move that would all but amount to a pornographic display. On other hand, as I turned and prepared to climb in, I realized that the act of lowering myself, would give anyone who saw me entering or exiting a wide-legged anatomy lesson.
Blushing to a new shade of red I stepped in. The hem rode up and as I lowered into the seat I saw Rod's eyes go right between my legs. I could tell. It was a total pussy display. The bulge in his pants was a dead giveaway. As soon as I was in, I crossed my legs. The damage was done but somehow it did make me feel slightly less slutty.
Rod jogged around to the driver's side and hopped in. Then he turned on the engine and looked down at my very amply displayed legs. Another grin pulled at the corner of his mouth like some pervy boy that has just discovered a hole in the girl's shower room wall.
"Hungry?" he asked putting the car in gear and backing out.
