No more a submissive
I wondered if I should dump the evidence of my self indulgence. Standing by the supermarket car-park trash bin I pull the plastic bag from my shopping bag. Inside is crumpled a pair of my favourite panties the crotch of which was now sodden with my vaginal juices.
Should I discard them or risk taking them home where my sister-in-law would be bound to find them and embarrass me in front of the family by asking why they were so soiled? Could I get back to the their house and pull on another pair before she discovered that I was naked under my skirt.
My brother’s wife Julie is a bitch and I wish that I have to stay with them after my divorce. This situation was as a result of ex-husband being as obstructive as possible about signing over my share of the house and property.
The morning had started as most other days; Julie had given me orders. I am twenty-six years old and I have to admit that I am not street wise. I keep myself fit and men seem to think I am good looking but I am quite timid. So when Julie said “Sara go shopping” I didn’t argue. On this occasion I was to get some groceries from the big supermarket across town. It pleased Julie, knowing as she did that my ex-husband works there and how I hated to encounter him, as he would humiliate me in front of other shoppers.
Gary so enjoyed seeing me start to shake with nerves as he bawled at me; our encounters inevitably ended in me shedding tears. How I survived the eighteen months of our sham marriage, or more to the point how I summoned the courage to divorce him I’ll never know.
At the supermarket the thing that I dreaded happened, one of the women assistants, with whom I am positive that Gary was having an affair whilst we were still married, saw me and I saw her beetle off to tell him. He came pounding across the gangways to where I stood almost transfixed with fear, and immediately he started to be aggressive in not so quiet whispers. Trying to be brave I stood my ground, looking him in the eye but saying nothing. His face, only inches from mine turned purple with his rage, his eyes bulged and the spit from his lips sprayed my face in his outburst.
It was inevitable, as well he knew from previous occasions that this had happened, that I could stand the humiliation no longer and tears began to fall down my cheeks, despite my determination that I would stand my ground. He smiled triumphantly and sneered at me pointing out my tears to his lover and those around me.
A hand fell on my shoulder, a man’s hand, and in my nervous state I jumped and let out a small involuntary cry. Pressure on my shoulder turned me towards the owner of the hand; a tall slim man with rugged features and traces of grey at his temples. His face lit up with a smile and he motioned me to move aside but to wait a short way away from himself, Gary and the woman.
As I sought out a tissue to dry my tears the man turned to my ex-husband and there followed a heated discussion, although most of the talking was done by the one who I now thought of as my knight in shining armour. Gary’s head began to drop from the aggressive stance he took at first to one of a recalcitrant school boy; he looked at the floor and merely nodded or shook his head as my knight spoke to him. The woman too received what I could only assume was an admonishment for being a party to my humiliation.
It still amazes me that Gary then meekly went back to his work without a word, without remonstration or threat of action.
Taking me to a quieter area in the supermarket the man told me that he could not stand by and see me so degraded by Gary’s verbal attack and had had to intervene even if it was a row between husband and wife. I quickly assured him that I was no longer married to that monster but had to endure such treatment whenever Gary and I happened to meet.
Jon, for that was what my rescuer was called, excused himself saying that he was now late for an appointment but asked if I would be willing to meet him at a later time for a friendly chat. As he asked this he took my small hand in his large one and immediately apologised if he had caused me to shake so. His hand was soft and warm and squeezed mine so gently; it made me melt inside and made me feel safe and warm. I assured him that I was grateful for his intervention and yes I would love to meet him although I had difficulty in getting away from the family.
Looking at his watch he excused himself again and handed me a card, squeezed my hand once more and asked me to phone him then headed for the checkouts. I looked at the card, there was a business address and his name, Jonathon Revell, and a phone number.
All the tension of the meeting with Gary, and the relief at meeting my knight in shining armour had caused my bladder to protest, so I headed for the toilets in the supermarket. There, I sat reflecting on how a traumatic confrontation had resulted in me meeting a handsome older guy who wanted to meet me again.
The tissue grazed my clit as I wiped my pussy dry and with some horror but a lot more pleasure I realised that thinking of Jon had raised my libido. Dropping the tissue into the toilet I casually placed my middle finger on the outer lips of my pussy; the moisture there was that of arousal. Not daring to think about reducing the resulting itch in such a public place I pulled up my panties and prepared to leave the cubicle.
Just one more rub of my clit before I resumed my shopping, I promised my self, and my middle finger rubbed the panties over my pussy. Oh too pleasurable! The harder I rubbed the deeper I pushed the fabric into my cleft. It didn’t take long before the crotch was soaking up juices that flowed from within my pussy. Soon came the point of no return; I just had to relieve the itch, the desire to feel that wondrous electrical flow of pleasure that spreads to involve my entire body, from pussy to ass to head to the curling of my feet and toes; I had to masturbate to climax.
I prayed that another female would not want to use the toilet, would not hear my heavy breathing or my moans of delight as I finger fucked, my somewhat of late abandoned, pussy to an earth shattering conclusion. So wet was I that I had to sacrifice the panties in order to dry myself for, as usual the toilet had run out of tissues.
So, do I dump the panties or am I now brave enough to face my sister-in-law with a bare pussy under my skirt? Bravery does not come easily to me and I drop the underwear in the trash.
Of course! I will go buy new undies, hopefully of the same type and colour as those now nestling in the trash, so that Julie will not have the opportunity to confront me demanding why I would need more underwear. She has a very small wardrobe of clothes and is not fussy what she wears or how she appears; often she smells of sweat which to me is unforgivable.
Although Julie was once a beautiful girl and was always fussy about her appearance, since she and my brother began living together her standard of personal hygiene and her self-esteem have fallen dramatically and I feel sorry for my brother.
Remembering where it was that I purchased the panties I hurry to the shop and to my relief find I can buy an identical pair, and I am able to put them on the the shop dressing room.
In the shopping mall I pass a boutique offering mobile phones and I backtrack to look in the window. The young man inside smiles at me and I enter the shop. I explain that I have never owned a mobile phone and that I need one just for security. He offers me what appears to be a tiny computer that does one hundred and one things and more, besides acting as a telephone, and all this for very little initial cost. It doesn’t take too much longer to discover that such a device would cost an enormous amount of money every month so I decide on a pay-as-you-go agreement and make the purchase.
Generously the man offers to show me how to operate the phone and it is not too long before I find that his generosity is a ploy to get just a little too near and a little too familiar with my body. Quite how he needed to put his arms around me from behind or to rub my ass with what seemed to be a fast developing bulge in his pants, or how his hands could accidentally continue to brush over my boobs I will never be too sure, so I thanked him and excusing myself by claiming an appointment I leave the shop clutching the phone.
What is it with me today? The brief encounter with the phone salesman has me thinking of Jon once again and I realise that I shall have to slip off my panties as they will be in danger of becoming wet once more. In a public toilet I remove the fabric from my hips and I am relieved that they are relatively unmarked; I deposit them in my bag and determine to put them back on before I get home.
In the car I locate a pack of tissues and place one on the seat and lift my skirt as I sit down so as to avoid any chance of marking my skirt should I find myself thinking of Jon again. Of course this leads me to think of my knight in shining armour and to my hand straying to my pussy as I drive. Fearing that the attention that I now begin to pay to my hot pussy will result in an accident on the road, I pull into a stopping area at the roadside, determined to calm and cool down.
On an impulse I pull out my new phone, locate the card that Jon gave me and without thinking, tap in the phone number. He answers instantly with his full name, I hesitate then say hello. I panic when he asks who I am; of course, I never said who I was in the supermarket! “The girl in the supermarket”, I blurt out. He laughs, says that he must get to know my name very soon but as he is in a meeting he would note my number and call as soon as he could and rings off.
Now I am excited again and my mind conjures up visions of Jon and me in the most explicit but exciting sexual situations of my imagination, and my fingers tug at my bare pussy. The sun shines in the car window onto a scene that only a few hours ago would have disgusted me; the seat is reclined, I am practically naked with my dress pulled up high, my hips are thrust in the air and my fingers bury themselves to the knuckle in my pussy. From my mouth come sounds that for too long my ears have not heard; almost animal sounds as I give myself in to the carnal desires that are encouraged by the visions that play in my mind.
This is such a revealing day for me… meeting a guy that seems to like me; masturbating to a wonderful orgasm in public toilet; now, burying my fingers hard into my pussy until, too, too soon, achieving one of the most exciting and pleasurable climaxes I can remember. All this in a car, at the side of the road in broad daylight! These thoughts almost have me continuing to diddle my pussy for further pleasure but the thought that Julie will demand where I have been to take so long, and trying to find if I have bought something of which she doesn’t approve has me cleaning my aching pussy and returning to my journey.
Before I reach the house I stop the car, turn off the new phone, pull on my new panties, rub my pussy with a promise to play again soon and continue.
Somehow all the intensive attention and vicious questioning by my sister-in-law seems to wash over me and I just smile at her, hand over the shopping and go to my room. There, I find that I am still on a high, and its a sexual high! Dare I go to the bathroom and continue the exciting and pleasurable onslaught of my pussy? I decide to be prudent, wait until my brother is home keeping Julie out of my hair, then sneak off to the bathroom where I am sure that my pussy will be more than ready and willing to allow me to pleasure it.
Possibly to follow… Meeting Jon… Discovered by Julie… Re-glamorising Julie… ???
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