It could have been a perfect evening.
Earlier, I had taken a long, luxurious bath and gotten myself completely smooth and silky. I spent 45 minutes on my nails, painting them a robust “Romantic Red” with luscious lips to match. A black and white polka-dot bra and panty set came next and then I rolled on a pair of silky, sheer stockings that made my legs look like they went all the way up to heaven. I slipped into a beautiful sheer bodice black velour cocktail dress that flaired (well) above my knees, and then strapped into a pair of black patent leather pumps with criss-crossed straps and 5” heels. I topped it all off with a beautiful full head of cinnamon kissed hair that cascaded down to the middle of my back. It was a crisp fall evening and I wore a ¾ length wool coat over it all. Now I was all ready to...go for a drive?
Yep (sigh!) I was still pretty much in the closet and the most adventurous I would get would be to take a drive over to a nearby apartment complex, park in a space and take a quick walk, scurrying back to the car if anyone came my way. This night had been good because no people or cars had interrupted my walk and I ventured even farther than usual. I was quite happy (and aroused) until I got back to the car, turned the key and heard...nothing.
Oh, $%#@! What was I going to do? Can't walk, can't call a cab, can't leave the car in somebody's parking space! I popped open the hood, knowing it would be fruitless, as my mechanical skills are maxed out changing a light bulb. As I peered into the morass of metal, lost in my misery, I was startled by a voice behind me: “Can I give you a hand?” I was so absorbed, I hadn't heard the SUV pull up and stop behind me. Calling out across front seat was a pretty decent looking guy about 35 years old. In the time I was trying to figure out what to do or say (or don't do and not say), he was already by my side looking at the engine. He said he'd be happy to take a look and see if he could figure out what the problem was. Then he turned towards me and said I'd probably be more comfortable if I waited in his truck. My coat was unbuttoned and as he spoke I could see his eyes running from my lips to the sheer part of my dress to my stocking encased legs and finally, to my whorish heels. OMG, I was turning this guy on!
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