A Bit Nippy

There hasn’t been any more snow here, which is unusual. All the roads, even the minor ones are perfectly clear, and a nasty black slush lines the gutters. Even on the cricket field, the snow looks tired and old….a very long way from that soft, fluffy blanket that covered it only a few weeks ago. 

By mid-afternoon, it’s actually warm….well….if not warm, exactly, then not biting cold, so Miss Brain made my fingers pause as they wandered through my undies drawer. Since I use pretty much the same style of panties, it’s only really colour that I bother with. Oh there are a few thongs tucked away at the back, and I do intend to have another go with them this summer, but right now, I simply couldn’t decide. 

So, I didn’t bother with any. Today would be my first out-of-the-house, away from any safe refuge, panty-free day. My heart leaped at the thought. Miss Brain did remind me that I’m slap bang mid-cycle, so I’m at my wettest, and building up to my horniest, too. 

Now, I can’t speak for other girls of course, but when I’m not wearing panties, I become acutely aware that I have a hole between my legs, and that hole, well, leaks. I become very aware of it, like one of those cross-section drawings in the books we had at school. (The one that also showed a vulva from the front as if the girl was lying on her back, legs spread, the nuns had gone through each and every book sticking thick white paper over that particular drawing!) 

With no dress comes no bra. On the subject of bras, yes, I do have some, but they are little more than trainer bras, since I have very little to put in them, but that’s ok! Wearing a trainer bra makes me feel sexy too…like some hormone-ravaged adolescent. So, sometimes, I’ll put on a trainer bra just for the feel of the soft, brushed cotton against my nipples, and the feeling that I’m 13 again. But, as Hannibal Lecter would say, “Not today”.   

Slipping on a dress that reached just above mid-thigh and is very loose fitting from the waist down made me feel like it’s summer again, and the feel of the fabric on my bum added to my already heightened state of arousal. 

Again, I can’t speak for all girls, but when my period starts, I can feel the wetness almost immediately, and it’s the same with sexual arousal too….I feel it almost immediately….that increased slickness….the fact that as I walk, my labia seems to slide against each other….it’s a glorious feeling, although I do know some girls hate it…I can’t imagine why. 

And so out into the world….and fuck me….it was cold. Way colder than I’d imagined and the cold air seemed to nip at my wetness, so, change of plan….off to the mall. I realised almost as soon as I’d parked that this would be bitter/sweet since one of my coffee shops is here. As I parked I took a moment to lift my dress up to my tummy and part my legs. My scent rose up and caressed my senses in a warm, welcoming hug. As I was sitting there, knees flopped apart and breathing in my sex, a family parked next to me. Mum, dad and a teenage girl of around 18 got out. The girl had ‘the’ look. Oh, I can’t explain it really….it’s a kind of ‘readiness’ look…the look we get when we’ve sorted out all nature’s little tricks around puberty and adolescence….we know how to deal with periods, sexual wetness, and suchlike. We’ve decided how to trim or shave down there so we don’t endure the horror of sticky pubes, and we’ve discovered and are comfortable with masturbation. It’s at that point where we begin to look outside ourselves for sexual experiences…and that’s how she looked. 

I wondered if she had tried sex yet, and if so, with a boy or a girl? I also felt that I’d love to bury my head between her legs and inhale her scent. Such thoughts did nothing to assuage my wetness. As she walked off with her family, I realised what a great bum she had! Yes, I could imagine getting my tongue between those pert cheeks as well. I considered having a ‘quickie’ right there in the car, but something told me to wait.

Yes, I did call into my old shop. All my staff are still there, although there have been changes in the menu and ‘corporate’ mass-produced, pre-packed food is all there is now, consequently trade has fallen off markedly. They’ve also lost the three office blocks they were supplying. People simply don’t like cheap bread, and cheap margarine. It’s as simple as that. I suggested that maybe a sideline? There’s nothing to stop them forming their own catering company and during their breaks trying to get at least one of the offices back. 

I took a coffee and sat outside at one of the tables there so I could just watch the ebb and flow of people. Then, the family appeared, heading straight for me, and mum and dad disappeared into the shop while the daughter sat at a table opposite me. She was in a dress now, but she didn’t look too happy. Given its length (which did look a bit on the short side) I imagine there had been a heated discussion about her showing off too much leg. She slumped back in her chair and, joy-of-joys, her knees opened up revealed a little ‘V’ of yellow panty. 

I’m very skilled in the art of looking without appearing to look, and so I arranged myself so that to her, it looked like I was reading the newspaper, but really, I was letting myself drink in the beautiful sight before me and letting my imagination have a play. 

As she relaxed further, clearly in a bit of a grump, her knees spread a little wider, enough for me to see the damp mark. I could imagine her in the fitting room, taking off her jeans and top and slipping first one, then another dress on. “Mum, I really like this one,” no doubt showing mum a dress that barely covered her bum. Mum wasn’t having that, so she got sent back to try another, and another. A discussion ensued, and a compromise reached. Not the knee-length one mum wanted, nor the bum length one she wanted, but this one. Like mine, just above mid-thigh, and floaty enough not to trap her legs in a knees-together, vice-like grip. 

She took a big sigh and her knees reached as far as they were going to go. Lovely for me! And yes, a definite stain right at her hole. That would have been quite enough for me…a lovely image or two for my ‘wank bank’. But fortune favours the perverted, as the saying doesn’t say….to my utter delight, she reached up her dress and a long finger just stroked her crotch a couple of times…not masturbation…but not a scratch either. This was, I felt sure, a ‘primer’. The touch that says, “I’m going to rub myself off the minute I get home, but I want to feel the start of it now." 

One day, she will discover the delights of doing herself in those grim little fitting rooms…or in a changing cubicle in a public swimming pool…or maybe, as she gets more experienced….on the beach, or in the middle of a field, or, like me, on the top of a ruined castle, naked and exposed to the world. Or with a car blanket over her knees….right there, inches away from mum and dad. 

Enough. If I sat there much longer there’d be a big wet patch on the back of my dress. I picked up my bag and my newspaper and walked towards her table and then dropped my bag, quite intentionally. She didn’t move, but I got a class ’A’ look up close and personal. I even took a huge inhalation through my nose too…..I thought perhaps….but maybe it was wishful thinking. 

Back in the car, I knew I couldn’t wait. I have a towel in the car at all times because I know I squirt and it is needed. I hitched up my dress and sat on the towel. Knees spread I began a gentle clit rub. Fuck but it felt good! Really good. 

It got better when, in the rear view mirror, I saw the family coming my way. I got to look at her right up to the moment I came wetly into the towel. Still breathing hard, I noticed she sat behind her mum. Dad would have his eyes on the road, and I wondered….would she try for it? A nice cum behind her mum? A little ‘protest cum’? 

Next time I go out with Emily driving and Dani, I’m going to try that. I just want to see how it feels to have a secret climax sitting in a car behind Dani. 

I’ll report back if it works out!