That was why Mr. Moroboshi was there. If he wasn’t at his office, or at home, he was on the commuter train. He had overheard about this limited time opportunity from another rider. That’s why it had seemed like a miracle when no soon had he come home than his wife made an ultimatum about her getting new clothes. He had made up a weak story about this shop he’d heard of, in another town and his wife had bought it because he wasn’t arguing about how they couldn’t afford it because of the mortgage or the expenses of their worthless son.
His eyes went to the display threw the shop’s window while on the street. His luck was still with him; he didn’t see any other customers. Inside, his eyes stayed on her with the casual, indifferent ogle that he’d developed over his years of marriage. Or so he would’ve liked to have thought. His wife knew; everyone looking his way knew. But instead of making a scene, and dragging him out of the shop, she ignored his middle-high-school behavior until later. She could always make his life miserable, but there were few opportunities to blackmail into letting her buy whatever she wanted. The shop did have some good merchandise and fairly reasonable prices.
He sidled up to the musky display, and angled himself to look beneath the open leather jacket at a breast in the satin bra that was barely obscured by the filmy blouse. He saw only its firm swell…But there was the incredible cleavage. But, still, he wouldn’t have been able to get this close to the outstanding bust of a real girl when not pressed together by a crowd witnesses. And she was alive, as her heaving bosom clearly, and tantalizingly showed. While he admired his womanly treasures, his hand ‘accidentally’ brushed against her tight, mid-thigh skirt.
His eyes darted to the young girl’s face and then to his wife’s back. His hand had another, more nervous ‘accident’. This time his eyes stayed on the girl’s sexy face longer. He wondered if she could, possibly, be flirting with him. His sweaty palm remained on her hip a while longer. Her hip pushed gently into it.
Remembering his wife, he glanced in impending panic for her. He caught her just closing a dressing room curtain. Feeling emboldened, his hand slid around to the coquet’s ass. He savored the roundness of her solid, young buttock, feeling the smoothness of the satin panties beneath the thin material of the skirt; it wasn’t long before he had to, at last, squeeze them. They wiggled slightly in his hand, increasing the sensation for him. It was too much for him. Even as he was looking around, and out the window, had pushed the back of the girl’s skirt up higher on her ass. He at last touched warm, smooth flesh. He then ran his hand over the lush ass cheeks.
He soon had his hands under her satin, bikini-cut panties, reaching around the bulge of her buttocks for the crevice that separated them. He may not be able to touch the slit available under the crotch of her satin panties because she was facing the street window directly, but there was the approach from her rear. It made it all so much more illicit, with the succulence of forbidden fruit.
His underpants became stained with pre-cum. He groaned with pleasure, need and torture.
Thu Apr 28 22:09:57 2005
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