It was late January, and I was shopping at the mall. The holiday rush was over, and the mall was sparsely populated and quiet on a weekday afternoon.

I had taken the day off to shop for a friend’s birthday and maybe update my wardrobe a little when a shimmering sweater caught my eye. The clerk directed me to the dressing booths.

I went in and hung up my jacket. I closed the curtain and faced the mirror as I removed my pullover top. Along with the top, I wore casual jeans and sandals.

The dressing booth curtain came with two pieces that pulled together at the center. There was a small gap where the curtain came against the wall, and I noticed some movement on the other side. I could not see any details and thought I was just being paranoid. I tried on the new sweater. I liked it, but it was too big.

I changed back into my pullover and left the dressing booth. The store was empty except for me, the clerk, and a man looking at clothing. He was around fifty and well-dressed. He looked like a businessman, and it appeared that he was shopping for his wife or girlfriend as the clerk was giving him some suggestions.

I overheard him saying, “No, she is more like her size,” as he looked directly at me.

I had found my sweater in a smaller size when he and the clerk approached me with a red cocktail dress. The clerk had been holding it up to herself, but she was short and somewhat overweight.

“Excuse me, I am trying to pick out an anniversary gift for my wife, and I am interested in this one. You are about her size. Would you mind holding this up to you? I like this. But I am concerned it might be too daring for her.”

I saw what he meant. It was a pretty dress, but slinky with a plunging neckline and a short hem.

I smiled and said, “No problem.”

I held it up to my body, but it was difficult to tell where the hemline or neckline begins and ends with the dress on the hanger, so I was not sure what was gained. The clerk told him his wife could return the dress if she did not like it.

He admitted he hated to do that, as they would be traveling soon and hoped to take the dress on the trip, and there was not a lot of time left. He hoped whatever he selected would be close to the correct size. He had been very polite and well-mannered, so I thought to help.

I said, “If you like, I can try on the dress to help you decide.”

I realized my suggestion sounded somewhat forward, but I only wanted to help the poor man. He responded courteously, expressing his gratitude and apology for the inconvenience.

I did not mind. I took the sweater and the dress back in the changing room. I tried the sweater first. It fit well, but the room was small, and the mirror was very close. I went out to get a better view with the three-way mirror in the store.

The man said, “I think I changed my mind and will get her that sweater instead.”

I knew what he meant. It did look good, form-fitting and a shimmering fabric. I would intend to wear it with a classy skirt for work. His comment was friendly, a little flirtatious, but not overt.

I responded, “I’m sorry. I’m getting this one. Give me a second, and I will try on the dress. I should have tried the dress on first. Sorry.”

“No, take your time,” he said.

I returned to the dressing booth and took off the sweater and jeans. I put on the dress and discovered a couple of problems. First, it was too big. When he handed the dress to me, I neglected to look at the size. Secondly, my bra looked stupid in this dress. With the plunging neckline, the bra was a huge distraction.

I slipped off the dress and poked my head between the curtains as he stood outside waiting. I got his attention and asked, “Could you ask the clerk to bring it one size smaller?”

He smiled, “Sure,” as I handed him the larger one.

A few moments later, I heard him say, “Hello?”

I poked my head out again, and he handed me the smaller size. During my effort to hang up the dress and close the curtain, I realized he might have had a brief glimpse of me, whether directly or from the mirror.

Inadvertently, I closed the center gap of the curtain and created a smaller gap between the curtain and the wall. Not much, but enough so I could look at the correct angle of the mirror and see outside. I also noticed the man had shifted his position, and I suspected he could be trying to look.

The thought that he might be looking at me was exciting enough to warm my breasts and arouse my nipples. I had not gone to the store intending to allow anyone to watch me undress, but the little peep show was appealing, and I liked the feeling of being turned on in this way.

I took the dress off the hook and examined it slowly to prolong the show, acting as though I was reading the tag. I took the dress off the hanger and slipped it on. It fitted like it was custom-made for me. It would have been the kind of dress I would have wanted to wear to a fancy occasion.

I wore a black bra and matching thong, which were not the sexiest ones in my drawer, but I did not expect to be putting on a show. The bra was not at all meant for this style of dress. The dress would look more appealing without a bra.

I moved around a little and could see his reflection in the mirror. I could tell he was trying to get a glimpse. I wondered how much he could see through the curtain gap. I purposely widened the gap another inch while pretending not to be aware of it.

I lowered the dress enough to take off my bra. I stood there and looked at my hard nipples in the mirror. I was sure the man just outside the booth saw it as well. I wanted to touch my breasts, but I resisted the temptation, thinking it was a step too far.

I noticed he turned his head to check whether anyone else was watching. When he turned his head back toward my dressing booth, I could surely tell the dirty bugger was watching me. Trying to imagine what was going through his mind turned me on even more.

The dress was composed of a flimsy material and my hard nipples were prominent. I opened the curtain and came out.

I faced him and asked, “Well, do you still want the sweater?”

“Wow. No, I like that dress. I should ask the clerk to wrap this up right away,” he answered.

The store was still empty. I walked over to the three-way mirror again. I actually liked the dress for myself. It was flattering to my figure. I have a well-maintained 36-24-36 figure on a 5’8” frame. Not bad for a woman my age.

He had followed me with the clerk, and they both complimented me on how it looked. The hemline was just over the knee, the waist was flattering, and the plunging neckline was definitely eye-catching.

The clerk asked him how he thought it would look on his wife, and he commented the length was correct, and though his wife was smaller on top, she enjoyed wearing plunging necklines.

I realized he was observing me on multiple levels, and I had been enjoying the attention. I told the clerk I liked the dress and asked if she had it in black.

She said, “We have black and turquoise. Let me see if we have one in your size.”

She returned minutes later to show me the colors, but only the black one was in my size. I took it and returned to the dressing booth. Now that I was enjoying the modeling and knew how to control the curtain, I increased the gap where he had been spying on me before. I slipped out of the red dress, hung it on the hanger, then hooked it on the back wall.

He was standing a couple of yards from the booth as before. I was standing topless in my thong again as I moved around a little, giving him different views and angles of my body. My nipples had remained hard the entire time, and on impulse, I slipped off my thong and let it fall to the floor, then sensually lifted it with my toes and placed it on the bench.

As I moved around, he had ample opportunity to have a peek at my ass. It thrilled me knowing he could see my entire body, and my pussy was tingling and turning wet. But, as before, I resisted the temptation to touch myself.

I poked my head out again. “Oh, you are still there, good. Could you ask the clerk to come over?”

He gave me a big smile and said, “Sure, but are you going to let me see the black one too?”

I smiled back, “Yes, but we need to see if she has another black one in this size. This one has a stain on it.” I handed it to him and pointed out the stain.”

The clerk came over and saw it herself. As she left to get another black dress my size, I remained holding the curtain, using it to shield his view of my front side. However, the mirror behind me allowed a good view of my backside, and I was sure he noticed.

He said, “My name is Steve, and I am very grateful for your help.”

He reached out his hand, but I laughed and said, “I’m Reyanna. Sorry, my hands are a little tied up at the moment.”

He laughed when he realized I needed my hands to keep the curtain closed. “Sorry.”

The clerk returned with another black dress and said, “This is the last one we have in this size.”

She handed the dress to me and walked back to the counter while Steve lingered next to my dressing booth.

I described him earlier as a middle-aged, well-dressed man. He was around six feet tall, a few pounds overweight, and had a full head of mostly salt and pepper hair.

I said, “Back in a minute.

I closed the curtain, again leaving a gap for him to see through. I noticed he stood closer now. I stood bare-ass naked and thought about him watching me. He did not suspect I knew he was looking.

I slipped on the black dress, and like before, it fit perfectly. I opened the curtain but did not step out.

I looked at Steve and asked, “So, do you prefer red or black?”

He looked me over and said, “Hell, you could make a burlap sack look good. I think the black looks spectacular on you.”

Hmm, it seemed like he was taking a personal interest in me.

The clerk came over, and I stepped out so both could see. I had no idea if the clerk suspected any mischief. If she did, she wasn’t saying anything. I felt like a model. I was having fun.

When the clerk went back to tending the store, I stepped back inside the dressing booth and left a slightly wider gap in the curtain this time. I slipped off the dress and stood nude again. I was a little disappointed that I could not see Steve standing in the same spot as before. But it did not remain that way for long when I heard, “If you don’t mind, there is one more I would like you to try on for me.”

He was standing outside the curtain, so close I could smell his cologne.

I laughed and teased, “You are really pushing it, mister.”

I opened the curtain in the center to peek out but was intentionally less careful. I crossed my right arm over my breasts while holding the curtain open with my left hand.

Steve was holding up two more items. One garment was a strapless white dress, and the other was a white nightgown.

“I promise, these are the last ones,” he said.

I took them from him, but it was hard for him to keep his eyes from wandering. We both looked at each other and smiled. I knew he had been watching every chance he got, but it was still not clear whether he knew I was on to him.

I slipped on the white dress, which wasn’t a good fit. It was a pretty dress, just not well suited for me. Nevertheless, I opened the curtain to show Steve. His eyes went directly to my breasts with all the cleavage the dress was showing. I could not help but enjoy the look in his eyes.

“Okay, now the nightgown,” I said, then closed the curtain.

I examined the nightgown while still wearing the dress. Again, I left a gap between the curtain and the wall and knew Steve would be watching me undress. The exhibitionist part of me was tuning into pure excitement. My nipples were hard, my pussy was wet, and I was feeling that hot rush of blood running through my veins.

The nightgown was very thin and loose-fitting, held up with spaghetti straps. It was very revealing, and it was bold of the man to ask me to try it on. I opened the curtain, and he was close by.

“This is another one of those pieces where you will have to come here if you want to see it,” I said.

He had a huge grin. “That is a keeper. Wow!” He exclaimed as his eyes ran the length of the gown and down my body.

I said, “Thanks, I agree, this is a ‘wow’ garment.”

He smiled and said, “Oh yes, the nightgown too.”

My nipples were rock hard and easily noticed through the white material. I did a little twirl so he could see the back. I was not surprised by his reaction. He had the perfect excuse to stare.

When I turned to face him, he said, “That is pretty sheer. I can see everything, especially your nipples.”

I pretended that I didn’t know my nipples were showing, and I brought my arm across my breasts and made a mock gasp.

He said, “I’m sorry, hey, don’t worry, it’s our secret.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine. It’s just weird how this all came about, and now I am in a nightgown in front of a stranger.”

This feigned surprise and modesty as he had been watching let him know he had gotten away clean. I closed the curtain as before and slipped out of the nightgown while knowing he had taken his normal place outside the curtain.

I had been mercilessly teasing him, but he was not complaining. Through the gaps in the curtain, he was getting his little glimpses here and there. However, modeling the nightgown in full view created a bulge in his pants, which aroused me even more.

Standing behind the curtain, still wearing the nightgown, I opened it enough to hand him the dress.

He said, “I never wanted you to be uncomfortable, but it would be a lie to say I have not enjoyed your modeling.”

It was fulfilling to hear the compliment. I smiled and thanked the man. I glanced down at his pants. The bulge of his crotch was now even more prominent. It would be wrong to say I did not relish it.

I reached up and said, “I had better close this curtain before we get arrested.”

He instantly replied, “It might be worth it.”

I gave a slight laugh as I closed the curtain, but when I did, I purposely closed it to overlap in the center and left a wider gap between the curtain and the wall. I could tell from the mirror that Steve was still close to the curtain. I had my back to the curtain when he shifted nearer toward the gap.

He said, “I’ll be out here. When you take the nightgown off, hand it to me through the curtain.”

It was a smooth excuse to remain there, and I replied, “Okay, thanks.”

Then I looked at the mirror and saw through the gap in the curtain that he turned his head to look at me as I slid the thin spaghetti strap off my left shoulder and the other off my right shoulder. Holding the gown up with my arms, I started to let it slide down.

With my nipples fully exposed, I looked directly at his eyes through the mirror. Our eyes held each other for a second, and then I turned around to face him through the gap between the curtain and the wall. We stared at each other as I let the nightgown slip to the floor.

I was now standing completely naked in front of a total stranger. I didn’t know anything about this man except for his name. I watched his eyes move down my entire body, lingering for a second at my breasts and then my pussy.

The innuendo was gone now. What I was doing was bizarre, but I was incredibly aroused and saw that Steve was also. I stepped out of the nightgown and bent down to pick it up. Holding it next to my bosom, I softly said, “Here you go, Steve.”

He reached his hand into the booth toward the nightgown but instead touched my breast. It felt electric as his fingers lightly caressed the underside of my breast first, circled to the side, and then touched my nipple. He instinctively made it perfect for me by being gentle and light. Then he wrapped his hand around my breast and squeezed, causing a soft moan to bubble up my throat.

As he removed his hand, I handed him the nightgown and smiled. After he took it, I closed the curtain. Alone in the dressing booth with the curtain now fully closed, I could not stop myself from rubbing my pussy with one hand while squeezing my breast with the other. I was sopping wet, and I knew it would have been only seconds before I could have given myself an orgasm. I stopped at the thought and told myself how crazy this all had been.

I tried to put it out of my head as I dressed. I was carrying my jacket as I left the booth. I had to go by the clerk’s counter to leave the store. Steve was finishing up paying for the items.

“Do you want to purchase the sweater or the dress?” The clerk asked.

“Not at this time. Thank you,” I said.

And that was it. The clerk finished bagging up everything for Steve, and it was only a coincidence he and I were walking out together.

“Are you going to do any more shopping?” He asked as we stepped into the corridor.

“No, I have to go,” I replied.

I did have more time, and I still needed to get a gift for my friend’s birthday. But the events that had just transpired had me still excited and also nervous, and my mind was not on shopping anymore. My conservative nature took over at this point, and I needed to bring things back under control.

He said, “Oh, too bad. I wanted to stop at Victoria’s Secret to purchase more lingerie for her.”

He had caught me unprepared with that remark, and I could not help laughing out loud.

All through the modeling show and while I dressed to leave, I had thought about where this was going. I realized that Steve had been given clear signals sexually from my teasing. But I had no plans to pursue this further. I did not know how he would react when I walked out with him. Would he try to follow me or get me to go somewhere more private with him?

I felt in control again, and my plans had been to part ways and leave us both with fun memories. But now it had to end.

“Nice try, Steve,” but I said it while still laughing.

“Well, you can’t blame me for trying,” he said.

We had softened our conversation. The light dialog relaxed me a little, and my nervousness subsided.

Jokingly, I said, “You saw a lot more than you would have in a lingerie store. I should take you out to model Speedos I want to buy for my boyfriend.”

He laughed this time. “Touche. But I don’t think you want to see me in a Speedo.”

“I think you get my point.”

He continued smiling and said, “Where are you parked? Can I at least buy you a coffee and walk you out?”

We had parked in different parts of the lot, but I said, “A cappuccino sounds good, but I need it to go.”

“No problem. My car is near the Starbucks. I could give you a ride to your car.”

My instincts told me he was safe, so I accepted his offer. We got our coffees and headed outside. It was chilly out, but he was parked close. He opened the passenger door for me. Then he got in on his side and started the car.

“Reyanna, I deeply enjoyed the modeling show. You are a good sport, but the last part with you standing there in front of me was incredible. I hope you are not offended that I touched you like that. This sort of thing never happens to me.”

I replied, “I don’t know what came over me. It became fun modeling, and then the exhibitionist part sort of happened. It’s not like you were alone in this.”

Although some of what happened was spontaneous and impulsive, I was conscious of what I had been doing and had enjoyed it entirely.

On the way to my car, I partially shifted the subject, “I hope your wife likes the dress and nightgown. I presume you’re not telling her about the modeling session.”

He replied, “No, I will keep that pleasant memory to myself, but I am sure she will like what I got her.”

I directed him to where I was parked, and he pulled in beside my car.

Before I opened the door to exit his car, I felt like I had to tell him, “Listen, Steve, I will admit the modeling was a lot of fun, and I probably liked it as much as you did.”

“I wondered about that, especially at the end. I am glad you enjoyed it. I have not been that turned on in a long time,” Steve admitted.

I laughed again. “It was rather prolonged.”

He touched my arm while I took another drink from my cappuccino and said, “I cannot imagine anything more erotic, to be honest. Unbelievable.”

I smiled and said, “It was good for me too. Let’s chalk it up to fate.”

He touched my arm again, but this time, he moved his hand to my breast. Even with a bra, sweater, and jacket over that, his touch sent a strong signal to my body.

However, my walls went up, and I said, “Steve, don’t.”

He did not remove his hand from my breast but paused his rubbing. The pressure of his hand alone was stimulating, and I half-heartedly regretted that I made him stop.

He said, “Hey, no problem. I don’t have any expectations here, but I just wanted to enjoy it for as long as you would let me.”

I looked at him without saying anything. He smiled at me, and I returned it. A lot was going through my mind. We were looking at each other silently when he began caressing my breast again, and I did not stop him.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment and felt him slide his hand inside my jacket. My right hand held my coffee, but I reached with my left hand and held his forearm.

He was cupping my breast through my sweater, and I said, “Steve, that feels nice, but remember where we are.”

That did not stop him. He continued to move his hand over my sweater, again touching my breast. We were all alone in the parking lot, and my resistance was quickly fading. I felt his hand slip under my sweater at my waist and quickly slide up to my bra, and he began massaging me. It felt like we were teenagers on a first date. It was wonderful.

“You have magnificent breasts,” he said.

I opened my eyes and replied, “You have been admiring them for a while now.”

“Oh, Reyanna, let me play with your tits, please, just for a little while,” he nearly begged.

“Just for a little while,” I replied.

He smiled and fumbled to lift my bra up over my breasts since the bottom band was too tight. He tried sliding the cups down and failed at that as well.

He laughed and softly cried, “Help!”

I leaned forward. Steve got the message, reaching his other hand behind me to find the back hook, and had my bra unfastened in a matter of seconds.

Now he had easy access, and his hand quickly found my bare breast. When his hand squeezed me, a wave of passion rolled through my entire body. He rolled my hard nipple between his thumb and index finger and then resumed his wonderful caress. He had me lean forward again, then helped me remove my jacket and lift my sweater.

He brought my sweater up to my neck, exposing my breasts completely. I felt like a teenager again.

He leaned over and brought his mouth to my nipple. I melted. I rested my arm on his back while he continued sucking and biting on my breast. I was uncertain where this was going, but I enjoyed it immensely.

He sat up, slid his hand down my belly, and quickly placed his hand down on my jeans. He tried to rub my pussy through my jeans, but I grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Steve, this is not the place for that. Don’t spoil it, please,” I softly said and lifted his hand from my crotch.

I was aroused enough to want sex. The gentle grip on my crotch felt fantastic, and I almost let the man continue. But I was not comfortable having sex in a car in a public parking lot, even though I would have liked having a hard cock deep inside me.

I lowered my hand off his arm, and the way he was leaning over, my hand rested on his knee.

As he was caressing my belly, his little finger was trying to unfasten the top of my jeans, but I stopped him again. He then moved his hand to my breast. I again lowered my hand to rest on his knee.

He looked at me and smiled, indicating he knew the limits. In return, I smiled back and squeezed his knee. He leaned over again to begin licking and sucking on my breast. As he did that, he shifted in the seat, and my hand rested on his thigh.

His car had a small center console, and the armrest folded up, so it was not too awkward for us to come closer together. He moved from my left to my right breast, and I continued enjoying it. At one point, I began to squeeze his leg, and he let out a sound of enjoyment while he continued his attention to my breasts.

After a few minutes, Steve sat up again and said, “I like that, but I wish we were someplace more comfortable.”

“I agree,” I replied, “but we need to make do.”

I shifted in my seat more to face him now. He removed his jacket and tossed it in the back seat. He leaned forward again to take my breast in his mouth. I rested my hand on his back, and I began to rub his back as he sucked on my sensitive tits. I loved what I was feeling, and it caused me to purr.

This went on for a while before I sat up straighter. “Steve, you do that very well. I think my modeling has been well-rewarded.”

My hand was squeezing his thigh when I said that.

He laughed and said, “I should admit it was selfish on my part to satisfy my hunger for your gorgeous tits, but is it also selfish of me to say that I like how you’re squeezing my leg?”

My hand was still near his knee, stroking his leg, when he closed his eyes and smiled. I expanded my gentle rubbing a little farther up his leg. He had his arm around me, feeling relaxed as I drew little circles with my fingers on his thigh.

“Do you like that?” I asked.

“Yes,” he softly moaned.

I was purposefully teasing him, but I was teasing myself as well. I fervently enjoy sex. I like how a considerate partner makes me feel, and I am well able to return the favor. Giving pleasure to a man is not something I do grudgingly but willingly. I like being able to get a man hard, and I enjoy being able to bring him to orgasm. But it is more than just that. I like the feeling myself, and I wanted to suck his dick.

He opened his eyes again when I unbuckled his belt. He watched me intently as I undid the top of his pants and lowered the zipper. We spoke no words, and he did not attempt to stop me.

I reached under his shorts and felt his warm, hard dick and squeezed it. I looked up at him and smiled while I did that. He smiled back, but then he quickly closed his eyes again as I reached further down and felt for his balls.

I whispered, “Lift your butt so I can slide your pants down.”

He opened his eyes again while he lifted off the seat. I used both hands to slide his pants and shorts down to expose his hard dick. He was not the biggest guy I had ever seen, but his endowment was slightly bigger than average. His dick had a sexy curve to it, shaped like a banana. I grabbed the shaft and lightly stroked him while he melted back into the seat.

Somehow, I knew he would not last long while I stroked him, and I knew I could make him cum with my hand. But I looked at his hard dick, and I knew what I wanted.

His eyes opened again as I removed my hand and shifted my position. He watched me lower my head between him and the steering wheel.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed the moment he felt my hand curl around his shaft and the wet swirl of my tongue around the head of his cock. I looked up at his face to see his mouth parted with his eyes closed.

If all this would be is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for him, I wanted to make it something for him to remember for the rest of his life as I lowered my head again to slide his sweet cock through my lips. I loved the feel of him between my tongue and palate as I dropped down further. I took half of his length into my mouth before I lifted my head to look at him again.

When he opened his eyes and looked down at me, I said, “You have a very sweet cock.”

I went down on him again. I loved the heat radiating from his cock, how it was so hard and silky on my lips and tongue. I sucked gently at times. Other times I took him deeper and sucked harder.

Every man I had ever sucked enjoyed my blowjobs. Steve was no different as a series of pleasurable sounds emanated from his lips. I knew how to make a man last and wanted Steve to last as long as possible. I could tell every time he started to edge when his pre-cum began to string on my tongue. I would slow down or stop to let him come down.

I gave him nearly a half hour of pleasure before I went for his cum. I had no doubt he would cum quickly and was not at all surprised when he tensed up, and I felt and tasted his first shot in my mouth. I stroked him harder as I continued to suck and taste the warm texture of his semen.

He finished quickly, and I began sucking him more gently. I had only swallowed a little portion of his cum. With most of his cum still in my mouth, I enjoyed swirling my tongue around his softening cock until I had swallowed it all.

After a little while, I lifted and sat up straight. Steve looked over at me and said, “That was fantastic. I never expected that. Please tell me that I’m not dreaming.”

I laughed and said, “No, this is as real as it gets. And if you were expecting it, it would have never happened.”

“Wow, what a day,” he sighed.

We made small talk while we were straightening up, but when it was time to leave, we didn’t know much about each other, and there was nothing left to say. Steve did not try to ask if he could see me again, and I was okay with that. It was a one-time thing. We had never kissed the entire day, and only now, as we parted, did I place a light kiss on his lips.

“Take care.”

“You too.”

And with the taste of his semen still in my mouth and its texture coating my throat, my modeling experience for the day ended.

I found it difficult to concentrate on anything else as I drove home and relived what had just happened, touching myself many times during my drive. When I entered my house, I stripped off my clothes within seconds. Just as quickly, I climbed into bed and fingered myself to an intense, long-awaited orgasm while I thought about my naughty day.

This was a vivid experience that I thought about many times, but now my first time sharing it with my readers. I hope you enjoyed my sensual adventure, and please comment.