With the top two buttons of her blouse unbuttoned, while leaning forward to climb in her car without hitting her head, she flashed me a glimpse of her long, line of sexy cleavage. With her blouse opening wide open, I saw the tops of her bulging, black breasts. Tempted to stick my horny hand down inside of her blouse, I saw her low-cut, white brassiere.
Then, something that I’ll be masturbating over later tonight, she gave me the perfect upskirt peek of her panties. With her short skirt raised to the middle of her thighs, when she spread her long, shapely legs wide to put her foot inside of the car, she flashed me her white panties. With her taking her time getting in her car, as if I had never seen a woman’s panties before, I was sexually excited. Unable to stop myself from staring, I saw her pussy mound, her camel toe, her pussy slit, and her black, trimmed, pubic hair through her sheer, white panties.
‘I can’t wait to masturbate over seeing her bra and panties later tonight,’ I thought.
I couldn’t help but wonder if she flashed me unintentionally or deliberately. No matter, if she flashed accidentally or deliberately, I loved seeing her cleavage, her bra, and her panty clad pussy. Again, I’ll be masturbating over her and over her flashing me tonight and tomorrow morning.
Unable to remove it from my horny brain, I loved seeing her cleavage, her low-cut bra, and her panties. Immediately having an erection, never have I been as sexually excited as I was now. After I closed her car door and watched her drive away, waving her my goodbye, I wondered if I’d ever see her again. I hoped that the last time that I saw her wasn’t just in my dreams and in my masturbation fantasies.
However, as good fortune would have it, thanks to God, and because she rented a high rise apartment several blocks from the gas station, she became a regular customer. Something that no other customer did, she always gave me a five-dollar tip. Even better than her giving me a big tip, every time she came in for gas, she always flashed me her cleavage, her bra, and her panties. Then, surprising me as much as she sexually excited me, after a couple of months of her coming in for gas once a week, she invited me to her house for dinner.
“I’m tired of eating alone, Garrett. I need some company,” she said. “Would you like to come to my apartment for dinner,” she asked? “I’d like to get to know you better,” she said, giving me a sexy look and a naughty smile in the way that I looked at her with horniness and lust.
# # #
I arrived at her apartment at 8 pm. She lived on the better and much more expensive side of town with less crime, less homelessness, less prostitution, and less drug dealing on the streets. Going to her apartment from where I lived, without having to step over bums, used condoms, seeing needles, scratched lottery tickets, and women soliciting me was as if I lived in a different city.
Not knowing anything about wine, with the age to buy liquor in Massachusetts 21-years-old, and with me only 18-years-old, not even old enough to buy wine, I stole a bottle of red wine from my parent’s wine rack. Interestingly enough, under the age to buy alcohol but I could serve in the military and die for my country. I put the wine in a paper bag, and brought that with me, while pretending that I had just purchased it from a liquor store.