© Copyright britslut 2008. No re-use allowed without permission.
I was spending the day shopping in Birmingham - out of character for me, as I don’t really like shopping, but I needed to visit a specialist shop in the city to buy a birthday present for my husband, and thought I may as well make a day of it, as it was a 2-hour train journey each way. So after buying what I had come for, I wandered into the new shopping mall and browsed idly, spending as much time looking at the people as the goods on display. It was fairly busy but not crowded - a vast space on several levels with balconies, escalators, food courts and every retailer you can think of.
Stepping onto one of the escalators, I caught sight of a woman further up. She was wearing an amazingly short skirt which, from my angle, did not even cover the lower part of her bottom. Her legs were long and slim and pale and I could not detect any panties in the shadow of her skirt. I wondered what sort of woman could expose herself so casually to the world. Maybe she was a prostitute?
I followed her off the escalator and along the walkway, trying not to look suspicious. She had bobbed blonde hair, and was wearing a short blue top that left her midriff bare. Sandals with 3-inch cork heels, and a canvas shopping bag, completed her outfit. Her hips swayed as she walked, and more than one man, and woman, turned their heads as she passed. I wished that she would turn so that I could see her face, how pretty she was, indeed how old she was. It was impossible to tell from the back.
The woman stopped and leaned against the glass parapet at the edge of the balcony, looking down into the well of the building. I saw her face in profile, and stopped dead with an audible gasp. Fortunately I was far enough away that she didn’t notice me.
It was Maggie, a friend and neighbour, someone I saw and chatted to regularly. We had been socialising for years; her husband and mine got on well and went climbing together now and then. We shared a mutual hobby of embroidery and often got together for sewing sessions. Maggie was my age, mid-forties, pretty but not sexy (in my opinion), slim and always well groomed in a quite reserved fashion. She always wore slacks or long skirts and high necklines; I had rarely seen her expose much of her pale freckled skin, even in hot weather. She and her husband were devout Methodists and spent a lot of time on church activities. She rarely drank alcohol and never swore or talked about sexual matters.
You could have knocked me down with a feather. Quickly I turned aside and pretended to examine a shop frontage. What was she doing here dressed so provocatively? Was she having an affair? If so, it seemed odd to be walking around flaunting her body to all and sundry. I decided to shadow her and attempt to find out what was going on. I put on my sunglasses to try and disguise myself a little, got behind a pillar, pretended to be texting someone, and watched Maggie, maybe 20 yards away, feeling as if I was in a bad spy movie.
After some minutes scanning the crowd below, she bent down and rummaged in her bag. With her legs almost straight, her tiny skirt rode right up and her arse was on display to anyone behind. I saw one woman’s mouth fall open with surprise. Surely Maggie was wearing panties to conceal her most intimate region? I could not imagine otherwise.
She straightened up again, looked around some more, then wandered off. I followed at a discreet distance. She ended up at a café where the tables were against the glass parapet of the balcony, and sat down at one. I wondered if she had arranged to meet someone. The waitress came and she ordered something, so maybe she was not expecting a companion. From my vantage, she was in three-quarter view, and I could see that her face and neck were slightly flushed, and her expression excited. The top clung to her small but pointed breasts, and I could detect the hard tips of her nipples. Maggie was not wearing a bra, it appeared.
The waitress brought her a coffee and the woman sat facing the glass, one foot perched on the edge of her chair, bare knee raised. I realised that, in that position, her crotch would be visible to anyone on the opposite balcony or on the one below. Was she deliberately flashing the world at large?
I looked at angles and distances. Taking a chance that she would stay there for five or ten minutes, I hurried away, got the nearest down escalator, and worked my way round so that I was opposite her café and on the level below. She had not moved. I was about 10 yards away horizontally and 5 vertically. Fortunately my distance vision is very good. Was there a hint of pubic hair in the valley where her thighs met? It was hard to tell. I did see two men close to me also staring intently.
After a few minutes Maggie stood up. I could see her nipples clearly poking against the thin top. She did the straight-leg bend again to put something in her bag, flashing anyone behind her, and then walked away along the route I had taken. I hurried off - I didn’t want to lose her.
I caught up with her in front of a jewellery shop. As I watched, Maggie bent over to examine something on a low shelf. I had a perfect view (as did everyone else) of her backside as the skirt rode up and revealed her naked buttocks. Because of her slim thighs, we also got a perfect view of her naked - yes, pantieless! - crotch. Her pussy lips were almost hairless, quite fat and protruding. I even got a glimpse of her neat pale brown anus.
I felt my head swimming. This was my friend Maggie who was as prim and proper as anyone I knew. I even found it hard to imagine her having sex with her husband, although since they had two children it had presumably taken place. And here she was indulging in the most blatant exhibitionism! To my surprise I realised that I was aroused by it - not by the sight of her nudity, you understand, but by the thought of doing it in such a public place. I tried to imagine what it must feel like. Mmmm, maybe I could see the appeal ...
Maggie stood up and walked away, with me in pursuit. She worked her way down to the bottom level of the mall. I watched the expressions of the people on the up escalators as they approached her from below and presumably got a glimpse of her pussy. She went over to a big water feature and sat on the low wall, knees slightly apart. She got a paperback out of her bag and started to read it. I saw several men stop as they crossed in front of her, trying to peer between her thighs.
I came to a decision. I had to know what was going on. There was a sign for toilets close by. I nipped into a cubicle and took off my dress - it was a sleeveless summer frock that buttoned all the way down the front. I removed my bra and panties and stuffed them in my bag. To my amusement, my nipples were rock-hard and my pussy quite moist. I put the dress back on and did up as few buttons as I could get away with. All my cleavage was now exposed, and the dress would flap open when I walked almost to the height of my crotch. Feeling very daring and nervous, I hurried back out.
Maggie was still there. Now she had one foot up on the wall, hugging her knee. Her small neat patch of pale brown pubic hair was in full view. I composed myself and tried to behave as it I had only just seen her.
‘Hi Maggie! Fancy seeing you here!’
My friend jumped with shock and frantically put her leg down and pulled - rather futilely - at the hem of her skirt.
‘Oh, Gina! Hi! Um, yes, how are you? What brings you here?’ She had flushed bright red.
I sat down next to her, pretending to ignore her embarrassment and scanty attire. I made sure that my dress fell open so that all my thighs were exposed. (I wondered if I had gone too far and that my pussy would also be on display.) I explained about my birthday present mission, acting as casual as I could.
‘How about you? Found anything nice?’
‘Oh, just browsing,’ Maggie said. ‘I just wanted to see what all the hype was about.’
‘You should have said,’ I replied. ‘We could have come down together. Fancy a coffee?’
‘OK, yes, good idea,’ she said, standing up quickly. Close to, I could see that her nipples were amazingly erect. Every bump and detail was clearly outlined by the thin fabric. Mine felt the same, but the pattern of my dress hid them somewhat. I was beginning to understand the appeal of being so nearly naked in public. So we walked to the nearest set of tables, two forty-something women, both aroused and barely decent. We sat opposite. I crossed my legs and let the dress fall open. Maggie kept her thighs together but I could still see her triangle of pubic hair. The waiter, a young lad, didn’t know where to look as he took our order. When he had gone, we looked at each other and dissolved in helpless giggles.
It took some time to compose ourselves. Maggie began in a nervous voice.
‘I suppose I owe you an explanation, Gina. I hope you won’t think too bad of me.’
‘Of course I won’t,’ I murmured, but she pressed on.
‘I know I’m a wicked woman but I just can’t help it. I just get this urge to expose myself in public - to strangers, anyone. I’ve always been like this, right from when I was a little kid. My mum used to wallop me for it. It’s like a compulsion. I manage to fight it mostly, but every so often ... I go somewhere far enough away, where no-one knows me - like here. That gets it out of my system for a while. Please don’t tell Ben (her husband) - he doesn’t know. He’d be mortified.’
Not if he’s like a lot of men I know, I thought, but didn’t say.
‘Don’t worry, Maggie,’ I said, trying not to laugh. ‘It’s a harmless pastime. I can see its appeal. Actually, you don’t look half bad, you know.’
‘You think so? I wonder what people must think of me.’ She leaned forward and whispered, ‘I’m not wearing any underwear either.’
I grinned at her. ‘Yes, that’s obvious. I’ll let you into a secret. Neither am I.’
‘Really?’ Her eyes were wide. In reply I undid another button on my dress, revealing my naked crotch. Maggie’s eyes almost popped out. She grasped my hands.
‘So you understand? You’re not disgusted by me? We can still be friends?’
‘Of course we can. In fact, we’ve got something else we can do together now!’
At that moment the young waiter returned with our coffees. He nearly spilt them when he saw my dress open to pubic level. We dissolved in laughter again.
‘He’s a nice lad,’ I spluttered. ‘Think he’d like to take on two older women?’
‘Oh I could never do that! I’ve never gone any further than this. I mean, sometimes men try to pick me up but I don’t ... I couldn’t.’
‘No ...’ I said. ‘Still, you must get extremely horny. I mean, I am!’
Maggie blushed again. It was one thing for her to admit she was a flasher, another to admit to me that she was sexually aroused. She looked down.
‘It makes me unbelievably horny, Gina,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll leave a puddle on this chair.’
‘And how do you cope with that?’
‘I’ve got Ben,’ she said. ‘I’ll wait till tonight.’
Yes, I thought, my husband is going to get an early birthday present tonight too.
‘Something else,’ Maggie said, ‘while I’m confessing - sometimes I go out into the countryside and walk around naked. Well, apart from shoes.’
‘Oh, there are places where no-one goes. Well, hardly anyone. It gives me an extra thrill to think that I might be discovered. I’m beyond redemption, aren’t I?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, it sounds like fun. Let me know next time, will you? I’ll tag along.’
‘Oh Gina, you don’t know what it feels like to be able to tell someone.’ She grasped my hands. ‘I’m so glad you understand.’
I looked at my phone and grinned at her. ‘My train’s in an hour. Have we got time for some more flashing?’
We finished our coffees and left a big tip. For the next 45 minutes we wandered around the shopping mall exposing ourselves as blatantly as we could without getting arrested (privately I thought that Maggie was going a bit too far, especially when she did her straight leg bends and her whole arse and pussy - the labia now parted and shining with moisture - were on display). We stood at the balcony and I undid the rest of the buttons on my dress and let it fall open, casually revealing a full frontal to anyone opposite. I was trembling with excitement and clutched at her hand.
Finally it was time to go and we headed for the station. I caught sight of something above the exit.
‘You do realise, I suppose, that the whole of this place is covered by CCTV cameras?’ I said, laughing.
‘Oh my word!’ That was as close as Maggie ever came to an expletive.
‘Never mind. It’ll give the security guys something to look at.’
The train was on time and we found two seats together. Maggie made a play of putting her bag on the overhead rack, which lifted her hem so that everything she had was exposed. I had to stuff my fist in my mouth to stifle my laughter. We sat demurely, two respectable women out for the day. Except that my breasts were easily visible to anyone walking past, and both our pussies were on display to the more curious spectator. We spent the time exchanging intimacies. The whole of Maggie’s sexual experience and fantasies were laid bare for me - her fantasies were at least as wild as mine. In return I opened up completely, leaving nothing hidden. By the time our journey was nearly over I felt very close to her.
She retreated to the toilet and came back dressed very normally in slacks and a jumper. I buttoned up my dress but decided not to bother with the underwear - I had got to like the sensation of being partially naked. We walked home together and outside my house she turned to me and said ‘Thanks, Gina.’ Then she gave me a soft kiss on the lips, and walked away up the hill.
Well, after the intimate and surprising fantasies we had shared, I thought, our future relationship is going to be very interesting!
last modified 27 August 2008