We were in the supermarket walking up one of the central isles late on a Friday afternoon. RS had his arm gripped around my waist, in a tight clinch, just how I like it. We were meandering along, looking for stuff on our list, enjoying the mix of each others easy company and plenty of time to take it slow. No pressure and no tension, my heels tapping across the shiny industrial flooring, his tan leather jacket creasing up against my side as he held me close.
We were looking for cream and cashew-nut butter. And a bottle of sweet dark almond liqueur which we could sip chilled from tumblers filled to the brim with chunks of crackling ice. RS pulled me closer and squeezed my waist.
'Hey baby, you look good with your high heels and the line of your skirt and your sexy sultry smile...have you ever wondered what it would be like to strip down to your panties and show that body of yours to one of these men?'
I glanced up to see a man looking at me briefly before he turned his trolley off to a side isle. A thrill of danger whipped through my senses. RS continued.
'Maybe you'd like that baby, to strip with several men watching you. Perhaps they'd be in the dull glow of a small bar, sitting in banquettes at lamp lit tables, watching you while you worked. Would it turn you on to have a few men watching you as you peeled off your clothes right down to your panties? Maybe it would be a topless bar and you are just wandering around at work with your breasts out or maybe you're a stripper and you want to go a little further, strip off your panties and tease them a little. Show those men that cute pretty little pussy of yours'
We moved down to the chill counter and found the cartons of cream. The store was busy, customers moving around and criss-crossing our path with their baskets filled with bread and milk. I smiled at RS nervously, outwardly giggly and blushing a little, but inwardly my sexual senses were taut and on high-alert.
Yeah, I'd like that. I'd like to see what it would be like to work in some topless bar and have men look at me in a singularly sexual way. Look at my breasts and want to touch my erect nipples in a darkened room in a nondescript city. Maybe I would work stripped down to wearing little more than a flimsy peek-a-boo bra and silky panties.
I'd like to know what it felt like to be scantily clad whilst getting the attention of a few anonymous men. To slip off my bra and rub my nipples while they watched. To smooth my hand over my panties and soft creamy pussy and wonder if those men would desire me, would want to see more of me.
We spent some time choosing the cashew-nut butter, checking the contents for organic purity, weighing up the choice between peanut and almond, needing this rich luxurious spread to taste full of the goodness it was naturally imbued with. Then we went to look for the liqueur, wanting a sweet strong alcoholic buzz to kick start our weekend. We walked up and down the rows of bottles until we found what we wanted. And RS kept talking.
'Would that turn you on baby? Those men want to see what you've got, they want to see those nipples standing to attention as you breeze past to get them their drinks from the bar. They want to catch sight of your ass and your long legs in those high heels as you strut by detached and busy. Hey your are working, just doing your job aren't you? How does that make you feel baby, to think about those men watching you and paying to watch you? Does that turn you on?
Sure, that turned me on and yes, I could do that job. I could be a waitress and strut past in my heels and panties. I could serve men drinks while displaying my breasts, my nipples would be hard because I would be aroused by the men looking at me. I would be aroused if I thought they'd maybe gently lean across, as I'm putting their drinks on the table, and take one of my nipples in between their thumb and fore-finger and pinch it until the tingly pleasure made my pussy ache. I guess that's how those topless waitresses get tips in those sort of places.
I could to that, of course I could do that, and maybe I could even strip and tease and show my pussy to some stranger in one of those places.
It would all be part of the job wouldn't it?
Maybe they'd call me over to their table, they'd like the look of me and want to see a little more. And I'd be doing it for the money so would be quite willing. There would be two or three men at the table and I'd be bringing them their drinks order and as I finish serving the drinks one of the men puts some notes on my tray, on a small plate for tips, so I know what he wants and I'd just get on with it. He'd want to see a little more of me. I'd maybe let him run his hand up my back and down my ass and thigh. All of the men watch me but it was this one, the one that had paid me that I would give my full attention to. I'd start to dance a little to the music, something jazzy and funky like Jamiroquoi, and as I dance the man keeps reaching out to touch my thigh and then squeeze my nipple. Its not strictly allowed but the boss isn't in the room and I know if I let this man touch me he'll probably give me a little more cash. So I move in a bit closer dancing and swaying and grinding my hips to the music and towards him. He moves one hand a little closer to the front of my panties where he can see the smooth shaved outline of my pussy against the thin silk. The back of his other hand pushes back between his legs against a growing stiffness visible through his jeans. The other men are watching intently and shift restlessly in their seats but their gaze is focused on my dance, on my grinding hips. On my pussy. The man in front of me then places another, larger, note on my tray.
Oh, and I'm not stupid, I know what he wants.
I move right up to him and rub my hands over my breasts and let him touch and linger over them too, his hands heavy on my breasts, clasping, but softly. I can feel his heavy breath on my neck as I writhe against his crotch, I can feel his cock stiff now against my thin panties. This is what he has paid me for, it isn't strictly allowed but for the extra cash I'm happy to give him what he wants.
I'm fully in his pay now and I writhe for his pleasure but it also feels so good. I pull back the side of my panties, my legs open as I let him see my pussy, displaying myself for him. He starts to reach towards my pussy, his fingers stretched out towards my aroused bud and moist lips.
We finish our shopping and pay for the almond liqueur, cashew-nut butter and carton of cream. Outside there is rainy late afternoon gloom and the car-park is dotted with pools of oily water. RS still holds me tightly as we make our way to the car and home.
