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I've been writing for my own personal gratification for many years while taking
from ASSTR (also for personal gratification) ... so I've decided to begin giving
back.

The characters and events depicted in this story are fictional (that's my story,
sticking to it), but the feelings, desires and actions are mostly drawn from my
own experiences. If you detect any resemblance to anyone you know in real life
it might mean that I know them too. If any of the characters sound like you,
maybe they are. If you think you recognize me in this story, you might. And
the next time you're with a lover, friend or coworker (or any combination
thereof), you can wonder if they are Robin Curious.

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Shopping by Robin Curious
(exhib, FF implied)
(c) 2004, by robincurious

I'm not sure what made me do it. Maybe it was because I was in a strange town,
surrounded by young, attractive people who seemed so carefree and uninhibited.
Not that I was a careworn old prude, but I had been feeling decidedly un-sexy
lately. It didn't help that I had turned 40 a few months before. And that I
hadn't had a steady boyfriend in over two years. Oh, I had gone out with some
guys and on one snowy weekend a few months earlier I had stayed in with a
gorgeous man who definitely had the tools to satisfy. Unfortunately he had the
brains of a mushroom.

But now, sitting in a hotel bar, alone on a business trip I was feeling like I
needed to recapture .... something. Add some spice. I caught my reflection in
one of the mirrored panels strategically placed around the bar. I had stopped
at the bar on my way back from the client site and was a model of respectability
- slacks, silk blouse, suit coat. I had let my hair out, but beyond that I was
the epitomy of corporate androgeny. I scrawled my room number and signature on
the bill, slipped off the stool and walked out of the bar, looking enviously at
the many students and young professionals that filled the bar - young women in
short tight dresses with skinny straps, men in baggy pants and snug shirts. I
took the elevator up to my room, scowling at my reflection in the mirrored
walls.

Once inside my room, I kicked off my heels and shrugged off my jacket. I went
straight to the over-mirrored bathroom and looked again. Yuk. I took off the
pants and blouse and tried again. Better this time. Tummy still reasonably
flat, nice satin underwire bra, matching sensible panties. I sighed and filled
the tub, getting my things together on the edge of the tub.

While I soaked, I examined my stubbly legs. Long and a bit skinny, but they
looked good in heels. I reached for my razor and slowly shaved them. When I
had gotten as far as I could in the tub, I stood up and dried off a bit, then
sat on the edge of the tub to do the upper thighs. As I parted my legs to shave
all the way up, I felt a tremor. I looked at my furry patch, hesitated a moment
and then began to carefully shave away the edges of the triangle. I stood and
reviewed my work in the mirror. Mohawk. I ran my fingers over the smooth skin
on either side of the dark patch of soft curls, then sat back down and spread my
legs wide. Very gently I shaved along my lips, working slowly until they were
smooth as well. I stood again to see my work. The same Mohawk faced me. I
tilted my hips and could just see the bottom edge of my fur. "Hmmmmmm." Back
to the edge of the tub, legs spread wide, the cool air hitting the sensitive
exposed skin. A few more gentle strokes and I stood again. The Mohawk now came
to a vee at the bottom. The effect was arrow-like, pointing at my folds the top
of which could now be seen while I was standing - like a sign saying "enter
here." The line of my clit was clearly visible.

I ran my fingers through the small patch remaining, then dipped my fingers down
between my legs, running them over the smooth skin. I ran my eyes up and down
my reflection - smooth perky breasts (perky being my favorite euphemism for
small), smooth flat tummy, FUR, smooth folds, smooth legs. I frowned at my
reflection. I sat back down on the edge of the tub and moments later for the
first time I was entirely bare. When I looked at my reflection I shivered. The
effect was extremely erotic. My folds were now visible. My tummy curved
slightly outward from my ribcage, then sloped into my pelvis. In the center of
the flat plain of my pelvis was a gentle rise cleft in the middle. I was
surprised that it was so visible, my mound, looking like a ripe peach, thrust
out, exposed, inviting.

That's when I got the idea. I felt like part of my body had been hiding. It
had been shy and embarrassed. But now, here she was, bold and beautiful, saying
"look at me!" And I realized that I wanted someone to look. I dried off the
rest of the way and went back into the bedroom. Rummaging through my suitcase I
found my black thigh-highs and slid them onto my freshly shaved legs, then
slipped into my black pumps. Pausing to glance in the mirror, the effect of the
stockings and heels was more erotic than complete nudity had been. I put on my
long overcoat, tying the belt tightly at my waist, feeling wicked. Making sure
I had my room key and my purse, I slipped out of the room and went shopping.

The air on my bare skin under the coat me shiver with anticipation. The scratch
of the wool of my coat on my bottom and breasts was a constant reminder of what
I was doing. After looking in several stores, I found one that was perfect and
slipped inside. There were two clerks in the store, a young man and a young
woman, both very attractive and well-dressed and only one other customer. I
selected a short fuschia dress with skinny straps that had caught my eye in the
window. I browsed, waiting until the woman was ringing up the other customer,
and then asked the man if I could try the dress on. As he led me to the
dressing room I loosened the belt on my coat. "I need a man's opinion too," I
said as he led me back. "Would you mind waiting so I can show you?"

"Sure," he said. The belt was undone now and only my arm held the coat closed.
He unlocked the door and opened it for me turning. With a glance over my
shoulder to make sure I couldn't be seen from the register, I "accidentally"
slid the top of the coat open on one side, exposing a breast. I smiled sweetly
at the man and turned to face him before entering the dressing room. "Wait
right here, I'll be right out."

As I closed the door I realized I was trembling and flushed. I had just flashed
a stranger! I looked in the mirror and saw myself, cheeks rosy, nipples erect.
I slipped off the coat and slid into the dress. The size was perfect, but
turning I saw a pucker in the back. The lacy tops of the thigh highs peeked out
from the bottom of the dress. I opened the door and my clerk was waiting.
"What do you think?" I asked with a twirl. "Very nice," he managed to reply.
"It puckers in back though," I said with a frown. "Help me find something else.
We walked through the store selecting three other dresses and I tried each on
for him. I finally selected one - basic black, form fitting and as short as the
first one, with spaghetti string straps. By this time I was so aroused I could
feel the moistness between my legs. I could see my nipples clearly through the
fabric where it hugged the curve of my breasts.

I opened the door again. "I think this is it. Do you agree?" My poor sales
clerk was having a hard time retaining his composure. "Very nice," he managed
to say. "You don't think it's too short?" I asked, trying to sound innocent.
He shook his head. "Well, I'm afraid if I had to bend over it might ride up."
Glancing around to make sure no one else was looking, I bent at the knees and
then stood and it did ride up, revealing my skin over the tops of my stockings.
I looked over my shoulder in the mirror and saw the curve of my bottom clearly
visible. I turned around. "See?" I turned back to face him and smiled. I
moved my hands to the hem of the dress, sliding it down slightly and then
lifting it up slowly, exposing more and more, until I was standing in front of a
strange man, my freshly shaved pussy, moist and throbbing, fully exposed to his
view.

He flushed. He stared. As I slowly lowered the dress and smoothed it over my
hips, he cleared his throat and asked, "Would you like to wear that home?" I
caught his slight gesture into the changing room where only my coat hung on a
hook.

"Yes, please," I replied with a smile. I retrieved my coat and followed him to
the register, feeling deliciously wicked. He snipped the tags off for me and I
handed him my credit card. While he was ringing it up I wrote my first name and
cell number on a slip of paper. After I signed the receipt, I placed my number
on top and handed it to him, making sure my fingertips pressed his palm. "Call
me when you get off," I purred.

I turned and walked towards the door, my heart beating wildly. Before I could
make my escape, though, the saleswoman stepped in front of me and seized me by
my arm. "The next time you flash in public make sure it's not in front of a
mirror," she hissed into my ear. Instantly I was seized with panic. She had
seen! My knees went weak and suddenly I felt sick. I pulled to get away, to
escape the scene of my humiliation, but she held firm.

"He won't call," she said softly, her eyes drilling into my furiously flushed
face. "He's gay." I stopped pulling and stood there, busted, humiliated. I
silently cursed myself. I was an old pervert, and the stickiness I still felt
between my legs sickened me. I looked into the face of the saleswoman, a
slender gorgeous twenty-something and felt tears starting to form.

She had released my arm and now had taken both of my hands in hers. Her eyes
never left my face. "I saw you were shaved," she said softly. "I think you
want to be licked."

I blushed redder and pulled my hands from hers. She slipped a piece of paper
into one of them. "Call me at 9:00," she said. "That's when I get off." I
looked at her again, afraid she was mocking me, but her eyes smoldered. "That
is, if you want to be licked tonight." She kissed me quickly on the lips and
then turned and walked back to the register. I followed her with my eyes as if
seeing her for the first time, her mane of shiny brown hair, slim figure,
slender shapely legs. She reached the register station and turned, smiling
warmly at me. "Please come any time," she said perkily. I smiled weakly and
envied her youthful beauty. I stumbled out the door on unsteady legs and made
my way back to the hotel bar, desperately needing a drink.

Now I sat at the bar in my too-short dress, legs demurely crossed, contemplating
the piece of paper and cell phone laying on the table in front of me next to my
drink. My heart was pounding and I was oblivious to all of the young women in
their skimpy dresses and the young men eagerly trying to pick them up. The time
on my cell read 8:59. And I had decided that I wanted to be licked.

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Feedback is welcome, send comments to [despammed] robincurious at hotmail dot com.

You can read my other stories at /files/Authors/Robin_Curious