The other day I was out shopping. I was wearing a pair of super tight black leather pants with a zipper at the bottom, some white open toed 5" heels and a tight, white, cashmere sweater with a deep V in front. Not that as tight as that sweater was I needed to bring more attention to the girls, but I like to anyway.
I knew that the neighbor boy worked at Target so I wasn't surprised when I ran into him while getting detergent. "Hello Sam", I said.
"Hello Mrs. Jones. How are you?" he said nervously.
I was seeing him check me out. This was far from unusual. He made every attempt he could to see me sunbathing in the back yard, or offer to mow the lawn or do other chores when he knew John was out of town. I was feeling rather frisky that day, so I asked him, "Can you walk me over to where the fitting rooms are Sam?"
"Sure thing. They're over here." he said.
I followed him and asked him whether or not he'd chosen a college yet. He'd turned 18 in December but was still a couple months away from graduation. He lead me right up to the dressing rooms and even walked me back and made sure one was clean for me.
"Here you are ma'am. Let me know if you need anything."
I said, "Come in here a minute, I want to talk to you Sam."
He nervously followed me in. I shut and locked the door and sat down on the bench, my eyes at his crotch level.
"Sam, if I ask you a question, will you be honest with me?"
"Uh, yeah, sure."
"Sam, tell me the truth, have you jerked off while thinking about me?"
