I watched as Kelly walked half a block ahead of me, the short skirt moved teasingly in the evening breeze, bouncing back and forth, her light brown hair was swaying across her shoulders. I thought of her smooth shaven pussy, naked, being tickled by the occasional gust of wind, each of which threatened to expose her to passers-by. I remembered the look on the faces of those guys at the club when she pulled up her skirt to sit her naked behind on the sofa, exposing her entire thigh to them. I’d never seen such hopeless pool-playing. When her strap fell and exposed her right breast just oh-so-close to the nipple, I thought they’d die. I loved sitting at the bar, watching, knowing the show was really for me. That my exhibitionist little lover was creaming that sofa in front of a bunch of horny jocks just to have me want her more. Ah, love, the things we’ll do…
I caught up to her and took her arm. I was getting bored with this little parade. I gestured towards an alley, she knew what I wanted. With a smile a wink, she started skipping down the alley, flashing her naked ass and pussy as she went. Once we were far enough from the street she turned to me, pulling her skirt up past her cute little belly. Her legs were spread just slightly as she shrugged the straps from her shoulders exposing her perfect little breasts to the moonlight. Then, grinning, she turned and continued down the alley, neither dropping her skirt nor adjusting her straps until we were almost back into the street. Even then, she waited until she was back on the sidewalk before she pulled the straps up. Some people passing by caught a quick glimpse, but she hurried past them. We had another stop on our schedule…
The sex shop on Jamieson Street wasn’t your typical dark, dirty little place. The management keep everything well-lit and spotless, trying to encourage the couples trade over the lonely pervert crowd, so it wasn’t that unusual to see the two of us come in. Even when I bought the tokens for the “peep-show” booths, it didn’t raise any eyebrows. Couples often came in to see the vids in the booths, usually on a dare or as a drunken, post-clubbing lark. Kelly and I’d been here before and the staff were used to us. Kelly once had a glorious day trying on various kinky outfits in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, parading around topless, bottomless, and even virtually nude for the delighted patrons, including Cheryl, the vinyl-wearing babe with the jet-black hair and the pierced nipples (she’d shown them to us on several occasions, trying to tempt Kelly into getting hers done). Cheryl made it obvious how much she enjoyed dressing and undressing Kelly in the various schoolgirl, maid, naughty-nurse and whip-bitch outfits. We took several of them home, but not Cheryl. At least, not yet…
(…)
Read the rest of Kelly At the Gloryhole (1,442 words)
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