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From: Malinov <malinov@mindless.com>
Subject: {ASS} Flashes of Pink by Lord Malinov
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Flashes of Pink
by Lord Malinov
~~~
We don't get to the mall very often, not together, without the kids.
Lacking nearby family, useable family, we're dropping the kids off
family, Diana and I only escape our juvenile wards on rare occasions.
We celebrate the coming of the sitter. We gratefully pay the parent
tax.
Unbridled, my filly and I like to frolic in the fields. Diana
laughs sweetly, teasingly, melodically jazzing us on the route
between circumstances, endlessly orbiting our invisible nucleus with
the electric synchronicity of a free roaming couple, our footsteps
echoing the careless enthusiasm we knew before kids, in a shadowy
life of vague glad memories, a paradise long ago surrendered to
serious adulthood.
Like the midsummer with lovers, Diana and I play together. Twisted
by our self perpetuating restraint, we transformed a short jaunt to
our local mall into a few hours of tight-wire teasing, through bolted
damasks, of silk and satin luxury, constantly attended by denizens of
beauty..
It was a Friday when school did not meet for our kids and their
sitters. I lay across our leafy-green bed, watching as Diana emerged
with billowing clouds of steam, out from the shower, her smooth skin
shining wintry white with an undertone of warmed pink. The sitter,
our sitter, the angel of relief, had been scheduled to arrive very
shortly, so I subdued my lusty appetite while watching Diana dress.
The morning sun illuminated our bedroom window in bold splashes of
light, shooting a long bright line fiery over Diana's snowy hips,
sparking glitters of gold in the fine lacework of her bare bush.
Diana slipped on a tan skirt and a stiff cotton white blouse. She
turned on the hair dryer. I checked the kids.
I retrieved the batteries and packed my video camera into a black
shoulder bag. I found a fresh tape in my dresser drawer. Diana
bought me the camera for my birthday. We wore out our first one.
It was another birthday when Diana and I managed to sneak away for a
night at a nearby resort. We drove through the foothills and forests
of a Virginia autumn until we reached a Germanic home in a cozy
valley. Upon arriving, Diana bounced at once onto our small bed.
Her lean legs stretched across the faded comforter. Diana smiled at
me as she lifted her thin skirt and boldly exposed the sweet pink
pucker below her blonde snatch. We had driven a score of miles, but
only with the flash had I realized Diana's rode pantiless.
The ride to the shopping mall was of a different order. I knew
at once that Diana had neglected to include undergarments in her
outfit, for as we pulled out of the driveway, Diana put a foot up on
the dashboard and let the sunlight glitter off her juicy cunt lips.
I shifted the fit of my slacks as Diana tickled her muff when we
merged onto the highway. Since the beginning, Diana has teased me
with her naked pussy, exposing me to the hypnotic kiss of her tiny
lips, casually spread before a quick finger tickles her subtle clit.
She sports a pretty cunt.
We pulled into the parking garage. Diana grabbed a quick kiss and
opened the passenger door. I collected myself and stumbled out of
the driver's seat. Diana sat on the red hood of my car, her heel
perched on the bumper as she fought the leather bindings. I stepped
around the car and caught a shadowy glimpse of Diana's musky folds,
hidden only by the darkness of the dank garage.
"Feeling frisky?" I asked, grinning broadly. Diana licked her finger
with a smile and tickled her clit, lifting her bottom off the car and
pushing her pussy toward me.
"I have some ideas," she said, standing up and pulling her tan
skirt back down across her hips. Diana came over and took my arm,
leading me into the mall. "You've always been a good shopper."
We entered one of the large department stores. Very few customers
fondled the merchandise, and the handful of clerks folded shirts
while they gabbed. Diana dove into a discount area thickly populated
with underpriced overstocked racks. I followed, a cautious explorer
bent on staying close to my squad leader, surrendering my will to the
snug press of cotton skirts, denim shorts and bulging soft blouses.
Diana stopped in the sea of cloth and with a flip, she lifted her
skirt. I stared, dumbfounded. Diana's ass rocks, a firm bulb of a
backside curve, like a dollop of creamy nougat nestled among the
dense stripes of cotton and polyester. I reached out to take a
squeeze but she slipped away, her pretty moon vanishing between red
and grey down jackets. I followed close behind, but Diana gaily led
the way at a rapid pace. We dashed from the department store and
into the sunlit hallways of the mall.
"Wait," Diana said, throwing herself against the balcony rail. "Let
me look."
Leaning, Diana's skirt floated up her leg's back as she bent
lower to survey each floor below. I took a seat on the bench behind
my lovely wife and watched as the murmur of her sultry pink lips gave
me a glimpse between her lean thighs. Diana settled on a course. We
rode the escalator down a flight. I caressed her skirted bottom as
we waited for the stairs to descend.
Striding into the Shoe Gallery, Diana picked up a black pump and
handed it to a tall young man in a suit.
"Sevens, if you please," she said to the awkward fellow as I walked
up behind her. He went behind a door curtain, carrying the proffered
shoe for guidance. Diana turned to me. "I love to do this. Watch.
This guy will lose it." I picked up a pair of boots and wandered
the shelves. Diana settled herself in a beige vinyl seat. Her
legs pressed firmly together, the hem of her skirt extended to mid
thigh, Diana slipped off her shoes.
The young man, a strong youth with a wave of brown hair and a
wrinkled blue shirt carried three boxes. He pulled the small fitters
stool over toward Diana and placed the boxes on the carpet.
"We have six and a half, seven and a half, or a seven in blue." I
inspected the sole of an Italian shoe as I watched Diana place her
dainty foot in the salesman's hand. He didn't seem to notice
anything amiss as he placed the first pair of pumps on her feet.
Diana strutted to the mirror, watching the shoes, feeling them caress
her heel, turning her toes elegantly.
"What do you think?" she asked of no one in particular. I started to
answer, and Diana turned a quick circle, flashing just a hint of her
fleshy behind.
Diana returned to her seat and propped a foot on the stool. Eight
feet away, I could smell the sweet tang of Diana's little pussy. The
merchant's eyes fixed their gaze into the shadows beneath her skirt
as he fumbled to remove her shoes.
"A little too tight," Diana said as the shoe came off with a jerk.
"You'll have to fit me better than that." I wandered past a table of
athletic shoes, to get a better view of the show. Diana's knee
drifted from side to side, exposing and hiding in a hypnotic fashion
the tiny pink butterfly of her labia as the young man worked to
remove the second pair of shoes from their box. He dropped the
shoes, flustered.
The store was empty, except for Diana, Tim the lucky shoe guy and
me. I read his name on his tag. After a great struggle of
concentration, Tim managed to latch the leather strap across the
second shoe. Diana sprang from the seat to witness the shoe in
action. She turned and twisted in front of the mirror. Diana bent
down to pull at the heel. Tim gasped
"Nope, nope, nope," said Diana, walking back to the vinyl seat and
pulling off the shoe. "These won't do at all." She took off the
other shoe, oblivious to Tim's paralysis, his mouth open, his eyes
wide. She paused, her pussy slightly spread, holding the pump up for
us both to see. "A seven would have been perfect." Diana picked up
her purse, pulled down her skirt and nodded me out the door.
"Blue," said Tim, reaching awkwardly for the spilled boxes.
"I don't need blue," said Diana and we were back in the mall.
Diana quickly led me into a lingerie store, with racks of lace,
satins, silks and the stench of floral femininity. I followed
obediently as we meandered past nighties clearly scandalously nude,
shorts that melted on flesh, forceful brassiers to fetch the breast
forth, tiny blue panties which could only hint at clothing.
Diana grabbed a pink chemise and darted into the fitting room. I
walked a cautious circle as a half dozen women eyed me hungrily. A
tall amazon lifted a pair of tiger panties, a tiny scrap which seemed
to strip her tight skirt off as I imagined the way they would hug her
broad hips.
An oriental woman rushed past me with a satin nightgown. Her friend
giggled wildly behind. I continued my circle. Two heartbeats later,
she had stripped off her clothes and draped herself in the shimmering
nudity of her tight sheer gown. She danced out of the dressing room,
writhing with delight, blushing as she saw me stare and showing me
the bump of her grind. Her friend giggled.
Diana's door opened and the dancing girl vanished with a leap into
her dressing room again. I laughed as Diana began to bounce her
faintly shrouded charms, teasing my attention. I had always liked
shopping. Diana dressed and we carried on.
Diana lifted a skirt aloft when we travelled the dim paths of
discounted goods in the thick racks of the department store. I
followed cautiously, anxious to catch another flash when the time
arose. Diana slipped into a dressing room. I took a seat, a few
feet outside.
Diana stepped out, wearing the new skirt.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"Looks good," I said, lifting up my camera to catch a picture. Diana
looked around. There was no one. Diana unzipped the skirt and let
it fall to the carpet. The faint lips of her pussy grew swollen
beneath her pale muff. Diana teased herself with a finger, lifting a
foot onto a chair to spread her damp furrow. Bending over vibrantly,
Diana picked up the skirt and told me to follow. Camera running, I
obeyed.
Diana sat on the broad bench in the fitting room, spreading her pussy
with a vulgar intensity. I closed the door behind me, and filmed
excitedly. Diana reached for her purse and pulled out a small pink
vibrator. Giggling excitedly, Diana pushed the small phallus between
her hungry pink lips. She watched herself in the mirror as she
slowly explored the soft folds of her pussy. Diana fingered her clit
and built a rhythm to feed her arousal.
I unleashed my stiffened prick and filming her in the dressing room
mirror, I pushed my cock into her mouth. Diana rubbed herself wild
with her whirring toy. I put the camera aside and knelt between
Diana's wide spread thighs where I could stare into the pink cavern
of her tiny cunt as the humming vibrator drifted back into Diana's
hand. She pushed her fertile mouth lower, forward until Diana
pressed up the small pink vibrator from below. At Diana's first
shudder, I took the thing from her and deliberately pushed the
plastic rod deep into her ass. Diana bit her lip to keep from
screaming. I kissed her raging white clitoris as I began to fuck her
ass with a steady rhythm, the vibrator whirring with the modulation
of each bottom's descent. Diana groaned hard, still biting her lip,
grinding my face on her cunt with both hands.
As we drove home, Diana leaned across the seat to suck on my prick,
gently teasing her naked clit as she did. We almost caused an
accident. There are worse ways to die.
~~~
Malinov
--
Power belongs to those who dare. . . Sapere Aude
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