I Was Bored

It was one of the first nice days of spring but I was bored. My wife 
wanted to get out of the house so we used the excuse of shopping for a 
skirt or new pair of shorts for the summer. She has been pretty ambitious 
about getting back into shape and last year's things don't fit anymore. 

My wife had always been a bit of a flirt, the kind of woman that seems to 
always have a circle of people around her. Now she was looking good enough 
for one of her friend's husbands to point it out. In front of his wife. 
That was his mistake and his story. Mine has a happier ending. I found a 
$7 cure to boredom.

While I checked out the hardware store next door she had purchased a new 
skirt. She wanted to put it on before we left the parking lot. Shyness 
created a minor thrill while she was changing in the car. She was going to 
keep her thong on so I decided to complain about the heat in the car and 
open my door. She knew what I was up to and still went through with it. 
The people in the parking lot couldn't really see her that much better, 
but they would at least know what she was doing. We had played a few games 
like this in the past and I knew she was proud of her body even if she was 
a bit shy about showing it.

Outside the car at our next stop I guided her between the cars for a 
minute. She was confused until she felt my hands heading up her skirt. 
Before I even got to the thong she had figured it out. My wife was trying 
to ask me what I was up to and look around to see who was watching while I 
lifted each foot and slipped the thong off. Her new skirt was only halfway 
up her thighs so she wouldn't really be in trouble as long as she didn't 
bent over much. The wind was a bit gusty so she sure felt different but 
kind of liked the freedom.

It was a big store but we didn't find much for me to try on. She didn't 
want to keep the first couple things she brought into the changing booth 
either. As we walked past the lingerie section I spotted a rack of very 
short cutoff skirts. She told me they were meant for teenage girls but 
agreed to try them on. She picked two and headed back to the changing 
rooms. She wasn't wearing any knickers and she wasn't going to be able to 
forget that in a skirt even shorter than the one she had on.

She called to me to look, not wanting to step outside the changing room in 
the latest skirt. I could just about spread my hand wide enough to touch 
the top and bottom of the cutoffs with my pinky and thumb. I was trying to 
get her out to the mirror, and besides, the store wouldn't want me to step 
into the area with all the women's changing booths. The mirror looked fine 
to her from where she was. She tried on the other skirt (the same style in 
another size). This time she hesitantly walked over to the mirror. It 
wasn't even ten feet from the safety of the booth, but she was practically 
paralyzed with the knowledge that she wasn't wearing knickers and the skirt 
was so incredibly short. My wife had only recently started wearing a thong 
outside of the bedroom. She grew up in a city that was further north and 
cooler, where a skirt like this would have been a sensation. If other 
shoppers had could see her thong below the skirt she would just die, but 
the thong was still out in the car. She felt naked even if nobody around 
her could tell.

Some discount woman's clothes are pretty cheap. She clearly would never 
have even looked at the skirt but for $7 I figured why not. She was 
rolling her eyes at me signaling that she had been pushed far enough, but 
I kept the second skirt and picked out a top with only one shoulder strap 
and an oval hole to show a bit more skin in front. It covered enough to 
not attract too much attention, but was thin and form fitting enough to 
notice it was a woman wearing it. She was feeling her oats as we continued 
shopping, stopping in front of a mirror to raise the skirt she had worn 
into the store until I could see her fur's reflection. She had looked 
around first, and it didn't last long, but she had tried something bolder 
than she could have imagined that morning.

Trying on shoes had it's potential but we didn't push it too far. I could 
see her quite clearly as I sat in front of her and massaged her feet. The 
shoe rack blocked everyone else, however I could see right up the skirt 
and she knew it. The mild risk and a nice foot massage kept her aware of 
her situation without panic. She selected a comfortable pair of low healed 
cheap plastic shoes and we headed for the register. Out of the almost 
forty dollars I spent, the $7 cutoff skirt was the only thing I really 
cared about.

Back in the parking lot I guided her in between the cars again. This time 
she could already guess what I had in mind and she wasn't really ready for 
it. I don't know where she thought she would wear that skirt. Right here 
sounded like a good idea to me. She told me I was very brave. O.K. she was 
being a little sarcastic. I was making the suggestions but it was her body 
being exposed. The important thing is she did it. She changed into the new 
skirt and top in the backseat with me standing in the open door. She 
cheated a bit, pulling up the new skirt before sliding off the old one. 
She also didn't remove her bra until after the new top was on. 

She stood up and I sat down sideways, with my feet out the car door. The 
skirt was cut off only about two and a half inches from her pussy. Ruffles 
lifted it out a bit so it was effectively a little bit shorter. She felt 
every breath of air under her skirt, as the wind hadn't calmed down much. 
I turned her around and saw the skirt's bottom was just even with her 
bottom. Even if the wind waved it a little no one walking behind her would 
see clearly enough to know if she was wearing a thong. You would know 
there were no grandma knickers, but you couldn't rule out a thong. That's 
the beauty of only being able to catch a quick glimpse up the bottom of a 
skirt. You can't always be sure exactly how much you saw, and how much you 
just imagined. I can imagine a lot, but this time I didn't have to. I'm 
her husband, so I just asked her to touch her toes. As she bent over the 
skirt rose up to the top of the crack in her ass. With the first skirt she 
knew she had to be careful about bending. This skirt wasn't going to let 
her get away with anything but standing straight up. Years ago girls were 
taught to walk ramrod straight by walking around with a couple books on 
their head under the watchful eye of a disapproving matron. This skirt 
would help her with her posture.

I locked the door and started guiding her towards a nearby shop full of 
cheap trinkets. They don't pay anybody much to work in a place like that, 
so nobody is likely to care if you wear something inappropriate. I fell 
back a few steps and watched her just to confirm that we would really be 
able to get away with going into the shop in that skirt. She knocked into 
a pile of baskets but I was able to grab them before they fell over. That 
would have attracted attention, and she might even have forgot that there 
was no way she could pick them up without really attracting attention. The 
skirt would not forgive a moment's indiscretion. In an aisle by ourselves 
I asked he to give me something on the bottom shelf. The skirt worked 
perfectly. A slight outward tilt of the ruffles in the jean material let 
it easily slide back down over her ass when she stood up. A clingy skirt 
would have required an attention grabbing adjustment every time she moved.

We were back in the car headed home when I saw a park so I pulled in. We 
walked around a little and she sat on a swing. There was no one near us so 
I stood directly in front of her as she pumped to get the swing going. She 
spread her legs to let her feet go just past me on either side at the top 
of her swing. I pretended that I would try to kiss her pussy as it 
approached. With the angle of the swing and her legs open I could see past 
the top of her muff. It was all there, swinging in the breeze. We walked 
around some people a little more and started to get back in the car.

I had been the instigator all along, pushing her about as far as she would 
go. I never actually dared her; I just looked a little disappointed 
whenever she hesitated. I was pushing her limits all over the place but 
she could feel nervous as hell and still feel a bit of a thrill at the 
same time. It was her idea to pull the scooter out of the trunk and ride 
it around the park's parking lot. It was one of those folding things that 
looks like a chrome skateboard with a handle. She placed one foot on it 
and pushed off with the other. The folding handle telescopes up, but was 
not really made for a full size adult. She had to bend over a little to 
reach it. In that skirt bending a little meant a lot. The way you move 
those things the leg that provides the power reaches out in front and 
pushes all the way back to lift up and start again. The limits were 
getting pushed even further by this motion. 

As she rode past someone the only thing keeping her pussy lips concealed 
was the way she held her legs. The very beginning and end of each push 
revealed something depending on what side you were on, and especially 
clearly as she passed you. There were some people just sitting in their 
cars and some walking on the sidewalks. She spent a while enjoying the 
feeling of seeing just how much she could get away with. Of course, I 
always told her it might be close but she was O.K. She rode around the 
cars and past the walkers enough times to give them a chance if they 
hadn't caught on the first time she flew past. She may not have completely 
believed me but she decided she liked this game and talked about doing it 
again sometime.

I took her to a crowded restaurant because she had started to get more 
confident. She had started out thinking the short skirt made her look like 
a streetwalker. Eventually she realized that no one could actually see 
anything unless she let them. Short skirts are common; this one was just 
that little bit shorter than some others. Once she slipped on the wet tile 
floor in her new low heels. That could have been a disaster. She was able 
to grab a railing in time, and I gave her my arm to steady her the rest of 
the way.

I told her before dinner that we needed to look at some things in Home 
Depot. Where we bought the skirt she was afraid to step out of the 
changing booth, but by now she was ready to boldly walk into a store with 
mostly male customers, and plenty of them. There was no aisle like that 
dollar store where she could bend down and know that no one saw her. The 
best we could manage was for me to slip my hand a few times up the back of 
her skirt as we were momentarily shielded by pretending to look at some of 
the larger items.

She was horny as hell on the way home, but scared about the short distance 
from the car to our house. Complete strangers in another city that you 
will never see again are one thing, the neighbors are another. I had 
enjoyed pushing her limits and I knew how to make this work for me in the 
future. We have one of those tilting oval mirrors in the bedroom and she 
spent plenty of time checking out the new outfit. She finally concluded 
that even if it was real short, she could get away with wearing them 
sometimes. That night we were both fired up, but that's not part of this 
story. 

The next day the cutoffs were washed and ironed and put away on a hanger 
next to the new top and other skirt she picked out. She mentioned we might 
ride the scooter again with that skirt, and I agreed. I didn't tell her 
how much I was looking forward to the idea. It would only have made her 
suspicious. A couple days later, while she was out, I cut another inch and 
a quarter off the bottom of the skirt. I ran it through the washer a 
couple of times to fray the bottom and cover up the fresh cut. She doesn't 
even know I can turn the iron on but I even pressed it. She is very 
careful about ironing her clothes and would have noticed immediately if it 
went back on the hanger without being ironed again.

I haven't actually seen her in it yet, but I have a pretty good 
imagination. The thing can't be legal. I figure to be careful about were I 
ask her to wear it. Places filled with families and many women are not 
going to tolerate it but we might just walk by a stadium as the game gets 
out. Always in the next city, of course. I also plan to stick to the 
larger cities where people have more to worry about than skirt length. I 
have been wondering how long it will be before she notices. She has 
already seen herself wearing it in the mirror enough to relax a little 
even if it does feel like she is naked. The outward tilt of the ruffles 
might just hide any problems when she looks down at herself. She doesn't 
want the neighbors to see her in it so I will suggest that she leave and 
return wearing the other skirt. That will keep her from looking at herself 
in the mirror again with the cutoff skirt when we get home. I have even 
been thinking that if this goes on for a while I could try raising the 
back even more. I'm sure she would notice the front faster.

Who knows how far I can go before she catches on? You won't catch us in 
the mirror aisle at Home Depot, but look around the rest of the place. You 
might notice the attractive blond in the impossibly short skirt next to a 
man who always seems to be touching her lower back with one hand. 
Sometimes the hand might slip. Look closely at the bottom of the skirt. It 
cost $7, and it's worth every penny I paid for it.