I did the usual thing too. Drove out to the road behind our farm, pulled over, and then froze my ass off in fifty degree weather (thank God it wasn’t raining) as I stripped naked and then pulled my new outfit out of the bag. First I put on the white short sleeve blouse, not bothering to button it up. Then I slipped on my red plaid skirt. The remote to my vibroballs went into the waist band and I attached a small metal clamp, complete with a bell, to my clit. Then I slipped my bare feet into my stripper shoes: four inch clear plastic platforms with an eight inch heel. I wrapped my freezing body back in my duster and tied my shirt across my breasts, rather than buttoning it. I looked like a slut.
But then… I am one, aren’t I? A nympho humiliation pain slut to be exact.
I hate going out on black Friday. It’s busy. It’s insane. People do stupid shit in order to get “the best deals” and while I wasn’t headed to a toystore, I was still thinking “this is stupid.” So with my pussy constantly contracting around the vibroballs I headed into town and aimed myself at our local arts supply and craft store. I was looking for something in particular. A frame, black, sort of modern looking. But that wasn’t all I was looking for.
I pulled up in front of the store. The place was of course packed. People were everywhere. I parked as close to the door as I could, but I was still going to have a pretty long walk inside. I turned the vibroballs up to maximum. I shucked out of the duster, grabbed my manila folder and purse, and got out of the truck. The wind whipped my skirt around, not to mention threatened to rip my shirt off. You also can’t run in stripper shoes. So by the time I got inside my teeth were close to chattering and I was shivering. I was also being stared at. The average age of the typical shopper was around forty five and most of them were rather plump women, all of whom gave a good look. And it wasn’t eyefucks either. It was sort of like a combination of “if I had a machine gun, and actually knew how to use it, I’d hose you down you whore” and “damn, I wish I could wear that too.”
I knew where the frames were kept, but I went looking for the second thing on my list. Browsing when your pussy is being vibrated rather intensely is tough, and I’m sure enough people noticed the white wire that went from the remote, certainly visible in my waistband, that disappeared under my skirt. Plus, if anyone had gotten close enough, they’d have heard it. Finally, in the baking supplies section I found what I was looking for.
“Excuse me,” I said politely, with one of my million watt please fuck me silly with a rolling pin smiles. “I was wondering if you could help me choose a frame for a picture.”
The brown haired boy (I’d call him a man, but I could tell he barely shaved) straightened, took one look at me, and coughed up his skull. LOL. It was funny. Okay, he didn’t really cough up his skull, but he swallowed wrong and sputtered a bit. I looked like a school tart ready for fucking and he used his eyes to examine every partially concealed curve. I gave him another million watt please spank me BEFORE you fuck me smiles and he melted like butter on a hot plate. It was cute.
“Uh, frames are at the back left of the store,” he sorta said, still having trouble formulating words. I shook my head.
“I know where the frames are. I need help picking one out. Can you help me?” I batted my eyelashes. I already knew I had this one done.
He nodded and smiled and then escorted me to the frame aisle. Thank God it was pretty empty and evidently the walk, due to my not being directly in his field of vision, helped get him a little more coherent. Once we arrived in the frame aisle he asked me what size the picture was. I opened my manila folder and handed him the photograph.
I had printed it the night before on my dad’s printer, so it wasn’t a perfect photo, but it was still pretty good. Some of you might have seen it, but I guess this means I have to post it again.
Yep. That’s me. After LAST Monday’s assignment. Yes, those are signatures, of all the guys that fucked me there. Hope you’re happy Master Barrett.
His eyes exploded in front of me and he said “holy shit!” as he looked at the photo. “This is… uh…” Words failed him. I grinned.
“Cool huh?” I shook my head. “The only problem is that Richard signed in a regular marker, so it washed off. See?” I turned around and lifted my skirt. I looked back over my shoulder to see the poor kid blushing scarlet, but definitely looking at my ass. Once of the names HAD washed off. I had taken the liberty of doing a rather horrible job writing “+1” on my ass in the space.
He didn’t say anything and I lowered my skirt. “I need something black and very modern looking. What do you recommend?”
With the photo in hand he went looking and a moment later he selected out a sleek black metal frame with glass and a mat that looked very nice with the photo. He pulled it off the shelf and handed it to me, but I put it back and took the photo from him.
“Thanks. I needed that help. Now I want to reward you. Where can we go that’s private?”
Evidently the bathrooms are one room affairs requiring a key. He left me there waiting while he went to the front of the store. I got more looks, but everyone pretty much ignored my presence. Then he returned and we disappeared into the men’s bathroom.
It was tiny with not much room, so I ended up on my knees with the toilet between my ankles while I got out his dick and sucked him. He was already very very hard, and I had to be careful. Right before he was about to blow I stopped, stood up, reached under my skirt and yanked out the vibroballs. They clattered and rattled until I managed to turn them off, dropping them into the sink. Then I turned around, bent over, put my arms on the sink to brace myself, and told him to fuck me.
God it felt good. He penetrated deeply and started ramming himself in and out. The bell clamp on my clit rang continuously. But to my astonishment, he had really good willpower. He didn’t cum. I was surprised, but then I realized that it was the position. He wasn’t getting the angle he needed, so I stood up and moved to the toilet. (I know… yuck, right?) I sat on it, leaned back, spread my legs and he moved in between them, kneeling. It took us a moment to get it right, but then we were moving together. Yummy.
He still didn’t cum and I was getting very tired and uncomfortable. I wasn’t close either. Sure, it felt good, but he was having trouble. Finally, I got up again, pushing him away and I laid down on the tile floor. It was cold. I spread my legs and he tugged the bell clamp off my clit. Then he got on top of me and pushed my legs underneath his so he was straddling me. He groaned, bucked, and thrust. I pulled my shirt open and he went to town on my nipples. I moaned at him to bite me and his mouth found my nipples, nipping them. I couldn’t hold back and I came. I cried out quite nicely.
Then he came. It was great. We moved together for a few more seconds and then he collapsed on top of me. Finally he got up and I stood. I quickly washed the vibroballs in the sink while he got his clothes in order. Then I put them back in. I turned them up to maximum and shuddered through a secondary minor orgasm as I let him attach the bell clamp back on my clit. Then I grabbed my purse and folder, and let him walk me back to the frame aisle.
I bought that frame. The picture is for Kari.
And what a pretty picture it makes!
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