Skirt

Skirt
Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

“I’m so tired of winter,” Laura said to herself, rubbing a red fleece jacket between thumb and finger. A wry smile tickled her face as she let a warm spring thought pass by. Laura turned slightly and pushed her way between two overstuffed racks of blouses to reach a thick ring of hanging slacks. Pushing hard on the loops of stiff wire, Laura opened a short space and began flipping the thin strips of black, grey, blue and tan past her hand, continuing her constant hunt for something.

She lifted a pair of pants, royal blue cotton size eight, and then held it beside her hips. Laura hooked the hanger over her finger and resumed flipping dexterously through the garments. Another pair made the transition to her finger, and then another. Laura sighed, wondering if she shouldn’t have gone to look at furniture instead. “I don’t really need pants,” she thought.

A flip of brown tweed revealed a black skirt, out of place. Laura pulled back the fabric to check the size and then lifted the skirt. “Isn’t that cute,” she thought and then frowned. “Where could I wear it?” She held it to her waist. “Short,” she smiled, “with my blue silk blouse and some dark stockings.” Laura’s face grew serious and she looked around. “About five years ago, maybe.” She imagined feeling the heat of Tom’s glare as he ridiculed her for trying to act younger than she was and started to put the skirt back. “Honestly, Laura,” she said to herself, “he’s never done that.” She hooked the skirt’s hanger onto her finger and looked around the clothed walls to find the fitting room.

Weaving her way between overstuffed racks, Laura finally reached the back corner of the department and looked around for some guidance. Walking past a large mound of unfolded clothes and a box overflowing with clear plastic hangers, she pulled the knob of a white slatted door. Laura stepped into the empty square space and tossed her purse and shopping bag on a upholstered box bench. Hanging up her goods, she closed the door.

A large mirror filled the wall. Laura smiled at her reflection as she took off her coat and hung it beside the pants and black skirt. “I still look good,” she thought, turning her hips slightly to study the feminine curves of her body. Watching herself, Laura unbuckled the small brass buckle and unclasped her pants. The beige fabric slid down her thighs and fell into folds at her feet. Lifting up the slacks with her toe, Laura folded and then laid them over her purse. She took another glance at herself in the mirror as she loosened the hug of her cream lace panties. Laura smiled, shyly.

“Come here,” she heard a younger woman say in a deliberate but hushed voice. Laura looked back at the still closed door. “C’mon,” the girl said, slightly exasperated. Laura looked up to realize the walls ended at about eight feet, leaving four more between the cubicle top and the ceiling. Laura reached for the royal blue pants and began to step into them. Another door clicked shut.

“Sit down,” the girl said. Laura closed the waist of the pants and turned to see her bottom in the mirror. “C’mon,” said the voice from behind the glass. Laura stroked the fabric down the back of her thigh. The pants hung shapelessly.

“Am I going to get in trouble?” a deeper voice asked. Laura opened her mouth, astonished.

“She’s got a guy in there,” Laura thought, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.

“Yes, you are,” teased the girl. “Now sit down. I’ve got to pick out something for Jack’s party. This is easier and they don’t care.”

Laura slipped off the royal blues and tossed them toward the corner. Pulling a grey pair from the hanger, she leaned over to step into them.

“This is sexy,” the man said. Laura grinned as she pulled on the pants. “You look great.”

“You like?” the girl asked. “Let me put on a dress now.”

Laura turned to look at the pants in the mirror, grinning. “These look pretty good,” she thought. She turned and stood on her toes, pressing the fabric over her bottom. “Nice,” she thought.

“What do you think?” the girl asked.

“That’s great,” the deeper voice replied.

Laura turned again, trying to decide. “The sweater clashes,” she thought and pulled the brown wool over her head. She shook slightly with a sudden chill, jiggling the creamy flesh of her full breasts in their lace encasement.

“I like that a lot,” he said. The girl squealed softly.

“Sit down and let me try another one,” she ordered. Laura nodded to herself and took off the grey pants. “If you don’t sit down, I’m going to scream for help.”

“I’ll tell them you dragged me in here.”

“Who do you think they’ll believe?” she asked gaily. “The big brute or the naked girl?”

“Depends on the jury,” he said, his voice low, almost threatening.

Laura took down the skirt and stepped into it. The fabric squeezed her hips tightly as she shimmied the black cylinder up toward her waist. She wiggled as she worked into the snug hold. “I can’t,” Laura thought, grinning lewdly. “They’re indecent.”

“Wow,” the man said. “You look great.”

“You like?” she asked.

“Wow,” he repeated.

Laura turned to look at herself from behind. “Naughty,” she thought. She bent a little at the waist and caught a glimpse of her panties. “Tom would just die.”

“Scott,” the girl said, the words emphatic and muffled. “What are you . . . ?”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Laura paused. She stood still and stared breathlessly at her own smiling reflection, waiting as the sound of restless motion behind the mirror grew serious. Listening attentively, Laura watched as her nipples tightened beneath the cream lace of her bra.

“Wait,” the girl said. “Let me get . . . .” Her words were interrupted by another jostling and the clang of a hanger.

“There,” he said. “Now just . . . .” The girl moaned sharply. Laura watched herself as she unconsciously lifted the hem of the black skirt and gently touched the crotch of her panties.

“Damn, Scott,” the girl said between breaths, “your dick is so fucking big.” Laura whimpered and pushed her fingers underneath the cream lace.

“You like that, don’t you” he growled. “You like my big dick?”

“Yes,” the girl said, emphatically. “Give it to me.”

Laura rubbed herself furiously, watching herself in the mirror, listening as flesh began to slap flesh in a steady rhythm. Laura opened her mouth as the electric shocks of excitement rippled through her and she felt her knees go weak.

“Damn,” the girl said, “fuck.”

Laura pulled the black skirt up to her waist and pushed her panties down her thighs. Turning, she leaned back against the mirror, pushing her bare ass against the glass. The wall shuddered slightly with each fleshy smack from beyond. Feeling their fuck bouncing steadily against her, excitement poured from Laura’s pussy, drenching her diddling fingers.

“Oh God,” the girl moaned, “give me that cock.”

“Give me that cock,” Laura whispered.

“Aargh,” bellowed the man and the rhythm of his blows intensified and then broke. Laura breathed deeply, on fire with her excitement. The other room quieted with gentle murmurs and kisses and lightly squealed ‘oohs’. Laura closed her eyes and finally pushed herself forward. Hiking up her panties, she smiled to see the half-moon imprint of her bottom on the glass. A shudder coursed her body, leaving Laura smiling wickedly.

She watched her reflection as she danced a few provocative turns in the tight, short skirt. “Too naughty,” Laura said softly and peeling off the skirt, she quickly dressed and left, leaving the navy blues and fashionable greys in a heap in the corner of the room.

The clerk at the register, a young dark haired woman, stood behind the counter folding sweaters. Laura plopped the black skirt down with a delighted smile.

“I am so tired of winter,” the clerk said, pushing aside the pile of thick knitted wool.

“I think spring will be here soon,” said Laura, dreamily.

“Did you find everything you need?” asked the clerk.

“Absolutely not,” said Laura, almost laughing, “but I have a good start.”

“We have some new blazers on sale.” The clerk folded the black skirt and found the price tag.

“Nope,” said Laura. “I’ve got more casual shopping in mind.”

“Can I put this on your Hechts card?”

“Sure,” said Laura, suddenly distracted as a couple walked past the register. Her eyes fixed on the bulging crotch of the young man’s jeans. “I’ll take one of those,” Laura said, almost to herself. The clerk smirked.

“I think we’re out, but I can order one for you,” the clerk said, her voice low. They laughed.

“What I really need is some new lingerie,” said Laura.

“Ours is upstairs, to the right. If you want something, you know, spicy, go up to Rudolph’s on the top floor over by Lechters. They have great stuff.” The clerk winked.

“Yes,” said Laura. “I think spring is on the way.” She signed the draft and took her package. “Upstairs?”

“By Lechters and The Movie House.”

“Thanks,” said Laura. Walking saucily down the wide aisle, she stopped to feel the fabric of a low cut black blouse. “Maybe I should try this on,” Laura said, laughing to herself.

 

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, reading, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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