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Out
The day before yesterday, I was waiting with Sarah, a friend, in front of the movie-theater. There I saw the girl. She was wearing a thick short coat - it's december and it was cold - with a furry hem not lower than of a short miniskirt. Below that, her long legs were clad in a green opaque pantyhose and her feet in light brown suede heels. Absolutely gorgeous!
I couldn't take my eyes off her.
I know I wasn't the only one and I have no doubt she was aware of it. I imagined how she was feeling, almost physically, all the glances caressing her legs, creeping up her thighs. Oh, she must be enjoying it! It must feel awesome! Exposed, vulnerable. Sure she loved it, but she felt insecure too. She was clasping her boyfriend's arm for a reason: he was steadying her, giving her hold while she was shivering, so I imagined, with not so secret delight. And she would pay him back his support, later, wouldn't she? When she was alone with him. She would do everything for him, because she was his. She was to be fucked only by him. But here she was to be seen by everyone.
Suddenly Sarah said to me: "You're dreaming of being her, aren't you?"
I couldn't take my eyes off her.
I know I wasn't the only one and I have no doubt she was aware of it. I imagined how she was feeling, almost physically, all the glances caressing her legs, creeping up her thighs. Oh, she must be enjoying it! It must feel awesome! Exposed, vulnerable. Sure she loved it, but she felt insecure too. She was clasping her boyfriend's arm for a reason: he was steadying her, giving her hold while she was shivering, so I imagined, with not so secret delight. And she would pay him back his support, later, wouldn't she? When she was alone with him. She would do everything for him, because she was his. She was to be fucked only by him. But here she was to be seen by everyone.
Suddenly Sarah said to me: "You're dreaming of being her, aren't you?"
