I suppose one thing these lockdowns have done is allowed people to plan their masturbation sessions more comfortably, and more predictably. Our parents have never made unreasonable demands on Alison or me, but they did point out that during the lockdowns we were far more fortunate that others, enjoying, as we do, large grounds, heated swimming pool, hot tub, sauna, and above all, plenty of space.
We were, however, politely but firmly told that lockdown meant exactly that. So, now that we can all move more freely, something that was impossible, suddenly became not just possible, but likely.
I was in my coffee shop cursing the arsehole who decided to paint the inside of the shop window with some kind of emulsion paint to keep out curious eyes. Oh, he left a couple of viewing holes, but the rest of the windows was smeared in....oh, I dont know what it is. Imagine what it looks like when a window cleaner wipes that soapy water on your window just before he scrapes it off. Now imagine it being done with some kind of emulsion paint. Oh it comes off, but its a tedious pain in the arse!
I was scratching away at a particularly resilient area of paint when I saw her. Oh. My. Fucking. God. A quick top to toe revealed she was absolutely perfect. A more detailed scan showed long, flowing blonde hair, laser-like blue eyes, and a face.....oh GOD, that face! It was the kind of face that could have been 25 or 15. The rest of her was 5 ft something of perfection. Her white t shirt was over boobs similar in size to mine and the black mid-thigh skirt showed legs that I would love to have wrapped round my ears!
And then, she looked right at me and smiled....
.....and I simply gushed into my panties. I do mean gushed too. I felt this wave of fluid leave my vagina, and it was like between my legs was saying, "Right. I'm ready. NOW."
She gave me a little wave and I indicated my front door which was unlocked.
She came in, said hi, and sat down on a bench. All the tables are still stacked, so I could sit in my chair opposite her with my back to the partially obscured front window and give myself the occasional glance up her skirt. She works at the baker's shop two shops down, so the lockdown hasn't affected her since bakers are considered essential food providers. Her name is Heather, and I was wrong on both estimates of her age. She is in fact my age - 21.
Married? Well, no rings, but that doesn't necessarily say anything. So I asked. No, not married. Boyfriend? No....no boyfriend. I told her that was impossible, to which she replied, "Not if you're not looking for one." Which led to the next question, preceded by more mess in my panties. "Girlfriend, then?" The reply was a cute little smile, a quick glance over me and a, "Not yet."
Have you ever gotten so turned on so fast that its actually uncomfortable? I swear, if I had so much as uncrossed my legs, I would have cum in my panties right there in front of her.
She asked when I would be open and I told her from early May, then she asked me the same questions. Married? Boyfriend? Girlfriend, and I gave her the same, "Not yet," but added "But I'm hopeful." to the "Girlfriend?" question.
She asked if she could have a coffee, but I lied and said the machine hadn't been serviced yet. If I had got out of that chair, I would have, at the very least cum in my panties, and at the worst, squirted as well. I didn't dare take the risk of moving.
We sat there chatting for about fifteen or twenty minutes during which I got several glances at her pale green panties, and I'm not at all sure that the last few weren't on purpose on her behalf.
She left to go back to work, and as the door closed behind her, I jammed my hand between my legs and into my panties. It took seconds before I was having a truly monstrous orgasm. As I threw my head backwards so I was looking at my own shop window, I saw Heather looking at me between the paint smears with a smile on her face!
FUUUUUCKKK!
Oh I SO hope something will happen here. Last night, I spent hours imagining peeling her clothes off and what her body might look like naked. It's a powerful thing, one's mind. I felt as if I could even imagine the scent of her vagina, and her taste. I imagined us making love in my bed, of us role playing, and that led to me wondering how far she might be to travel the road of perversions that make up my sex life.
I had trouble sleeping too which is unheard of for me. Even after some pretty intense orgasms, I simply couldn't drift off to sleep. And when I did, Heather filled my dreams.
When I woke this morning, I simply had to rub another one out thinking about her before heading to the mall and my shop....via the bakers of course, and there she was. The white T shirt and black skirt is clearly uniform, but she looks great in them, in a sort of High School PE/Games uniform kind of way.
I went back to my laborious paint stripping (at least the shop door is cleaned now), and around the same time as yesterday there was a little tap and Heather walked in. (Oh fuck)
She sat in the same chair and I made us some instant coffee (since I still cant work the fucking machine). She sipped at her drink....then burst out laughing. "Looked like you REALLY needed that yesterday." Instead of turning bright pink I just threw caution to the wind. "Yep! And it didn't help with you flashing me your undies every few seconds."
She smiled and said, "What, you mean like this?" She opened her knees, her skirt tightened, just as it did yesterday, but there were no green panties this time....in fact there were no panties at all. I found myself looking at a vagina every bit as perfect as she is.
Heather closed her knees together, and regarded me straight faced for a few seconds before saying, "Thank you." Thank you? What on earth for? "I considered it a real compliment that you found me so attractive that you simply had to cum. I'll let you in on a secret. When I got back to work, I went to the bathroom and did exactly the same thinking about you."
Normally, I would have made a physical pass at her there and then. I would have made some ham fisted suggestion that, since we have masturbated over each other, maybe we should masturbate WITH each other....something like that....but Miss Brain was repeating four words over and over, "Shut the fuck up." And as you know, I always listen to Miss Brain.
Heather said, "Thank you for not trying to do anything with me as well. Clearly you would have liked to....and so would I....but, well, I know we've only just met, but I really like you. Maybe there's a chance we could be good together?"
And so, I'm going on a date. My first date for, well, well over eighteen months. I can't wait to get into her panties, but something is telling me this might be special. Might she even be 'that one'? I'm tingling all over as I write this.
There is a lot of ground to cover though. Unto Thine Own Self Be True, as the saying goes, and if Heather and I are to become an item, she has to know things about me. That I'm bisexual, for one. (Possibly a showstopper if she is 100% lesbian), that I can be heart-touchingly romantic in bed, but also that I have a kinky side. Maybe she does too, all I know is that we have planned a day together where, by mutual agreement, we will do nothing but talk. The groundrules are total honesty, and we are going to write questions to ask one another.
I find myself really hoping we are kindred spirits.
I think I might actually be in love.
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