This weekend I took some ideas from other EP members to ensure a memorable trip to the large shopping mall a short drive from home.
It was wet and cold out, but the mall offered undercover parking and air-conditioned comfort.
I got out of my car and entered the shops. To the casual observer I was rather plainly dressed in a fitted white blouse, black skirt, nude stockings or tights and black heels.
To the more diligent observer there were hints of a more daring aspect. My fitted blouse was tight enough to have shown the outline of my bra had I been wearing one; but I wasn’t. Also my blouse had perhaps one more button undone than necessary.
The skirt I wore was short and tight. The absence of any vpl invited the observer to draw their own conclusion, but I knew that I wasn’t wearing any panties under my tights.
I wandered from shop to shop, browsing. Escalators were fun; casually putting one foot on a higher step might have given a flash of thigh. The thought that it might was enough for me.
Finally I selected a shop; a shoe shop. There were many to choose from. Some used an almost self-service approach; those I rejected at once. Some were too busy. Some were too exclusive.
I narrowed it down to two.
In the first I took a while choosing a pair of shoes to try on. They had to have straps to buckle and they had to be high heels. After a while I found the perfect pair. The assistant was a young woman. When she returned with the shoes, I explained that I had just done my nails and hoped she could do the straps up for me. She pulled up one of those foot-rest/stool things and sat on it. I put my foot in the shoe, knowing that the act of raising my leg would make my short tight skirt ride up a little and provide a view up my skirt.
She glanced up. She smiled knowingly but said nothing.
I repeated the process for my other foot, then walked up and down. The heels were higher than I usually wore but I felt ok.
I decided not to buy the shoes. As I left the shop I saw her talking to another assistant and pointing at me. I felt my cheeks redden but I felt great.
I moved on to the second shop.
I browsed; maybe sub-consciously I was waiting for the male assistant to be free, since when he was free, I approached him holding one shoe. His badge said he was called ‘John’ and that he was the ‘Deputy Manager’.
I smiled sweetly and asked if he could fetch me a pair in my size.
He said he would and his eyes never left my breasts!
I was sitting down when he returned. Once again I asked for assistance with the straps. John didn’t know where to look. Not in the ‘embarrassed’ sense but in the ‘spoilt for choice’ sense. He was flicking his gaze from my breasts to trying to look up my skirt and back over and over again.
I felt deliciously naughty.
I didn’t buy the shoes but thanked him.
When I left he said “No problem, it was my pleasure, do come again.”
I believed him and couldn’t wait to get home so I could do something about my overwhelming feeling of arousal.
Pantiesov Pantiesov
36-40, F
4 Responses May 8, 2012

I worked in a major department store for a while, not in the shoe department, but talking to those guys in the break room, they had all kinds of fun

Twp of the best things in life.. shopping and showing.


Thanks x

What great fun.

It was!