I had barely arrived home from my Christmas break at college when Mom started peppering me with questions about Christmas gifts. Eager to get her to drop the subject, and to make sure that I didn't get a bunch of stuff I didn't want, I agreed to go with her to a local outlet mall.

My name is Leah and I am twenty-two. I have light brown hair, although it is sometimes sandy blonde if I lighten it, I weigh one hundred and ten pounds, and I am 5' 2" tall.

As we entered the first shop, the left half of the store was mostly men's clothing, the right was women's. I distracted Mom by showing her an outfit that I said would look good on her and hurried to my section of the store. I quickly found a few pairs of jeans and some shirts I liked.

There were a series of fitting rooms along the wall in the women's section. Normally, there was an attendant who mostly monitored shoplifting, but the store seemed to be short-staffed on this particular day. While not crowded, the store was still fairly busy. I found a booth that didn't seem occupied and claimed it.

Once inside, I hooked the latch and sat down on the bench. After removing my shoes, pants, and shirt, I grabbed a top and put it on. I didn't like the way that it looked on me, especially with the bra I was wearing. It was a poor decision to wear that particular bra when I knew I would be trying on clothes.

Although this may sound unusual, I prefer to wear a lightweight sports bra whenever possible. My breasts are pretty small and they are somewhat pear-shaped. As a result, I have never found a regular bra that comfortably fits. Besides, a sports bra provides more evenly-distributed support which makes my breasts appear more round in shape, something that I am self-conscious about.

I took off my bra and decided to try the shirt on again. As I spun around to grab it, I banged my elbow against the door and somehow dislodged the latch. Stunned by what was happening, I stood there like a deer in the headlights while the door slowly creaked open. I could have easily grabbed onto it and pulled it closed before anybody noticed, but instead, I froze.

Slowly, the creaky door revealed me to any onlookers as I stood there wearing only panties and socks. My brain was scattered with thoughts of how I could have possibly unlatched the door. I watched as different patrons noticed me and either took a long look or notified others of my unintentional exposure. The door creaked until it rattled into the adjacent stall. I stood there, not even realizing that I could have made some attempt to cover myself. All of the while over a dozen people stared at me for what had to have been well over a minute.

I thought to myself that I must look silly with my mismatched undergarments. Then I remembered that I had removed my bra. Slowly, I was transitioning from panic to rational thought.

After quickly weighing the options of either covering up or closing the door, I elected to step out and grab the door. Once it was closed and securely latched, I put my original clothes back on in a hurry. While I was reluctant to go back into the shop, I wanted to get out of that place as soon as possible.

As I tried to return the items to the sales racks, I was approached by two guys who were roughly my age. One was cute and confident, while the other was skinny and shy. I agreed to "NameDrop" phone numbers, mostly to get them to leave me alone. It wasn't long, though, before more people would approach me. I did the same with them and hurried out of the store.

Once I had time to get over the embarrassment of the situation, I decided to contact all of the people who shared numbers with me. I thought that perhaps I would go out with one of them if the situation was right. So, I sent all of them the same text message. The short version is, "I showed you mine, now it's your turn to show me yours."

Of the seven people that I sent the message to, five sent photos. One was a girl. She was attractive, but not exactly my type. Of the two men in their forties, only one responded. Unfortunately, it was the creepy one.

There was also an older man who must have been in his sixties. His name was Fred and he was neat in appearance. Fred sent me a picture of his grey-haired, but neatly trimmed, cock. It was roughly average in length, but it was noticeably thick. His body wasn't in great shape, but that was to be expected at his age.

Dylan was one of the younger guys that sent a picture. He was cute and really fit. From what I saw of him in the pic, he was a bit lacking in size, although he was trying hard to disguise it.

Lastly, there were the two guys who approached me first. The cute, confident one's name was Derek. He didn't send a picture for some reason. I wondered what he was trying to hide. Steven was the shy, skinny guy and he did send an image. It was the surprise entry of the competition and the only flaccid picture. Steven's cock was long and narrow, much like himself. It was easily the longest and most impressive-looking of the contenders.

You must be wondering which one I chose. Well, he just pulled into the driveway. Frederick is taking me out tonight and he encouraged me to bring an overnight bag.

I always prefer a man with girth.