Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Good evening. Lots to tell you about. I had a very strange time this evening. It started at the office, when I had to take off the shirt I had on and replace it with the office shirt (I only own a couple of button front shirts.) And if we are going to be continuing this particular set of instructions on a frequent basis, I need to get some new underwear. The bra I had on today pinches. I left the office, took the train to the car, and went shopping. I did pull the skirt up as far as I could to drive, and if you recall, I almost always drive with my left knee bent and the foot flat on the floor, so the skirt doesn't cover much of anything. Just the way I am comfortable driving.
As far as the shirt is concerned, I am afraid you may have forgotten just exactly how large these breasts are. When the shirt is unbuttoned as far as you have me unbuttoning it, there isn't any way to avoid having them show. In fact, I keep expecting compliments on my birth mark. (You do remember the birth mark, don't you?)
Well, I got to the shopping center, and sure enough, as I finished getting out of the car, what did I see? Oh yeah, the guy in the next row of cars standing there watching me get out. So this is two days in a row that I have embarrassed myself. And of course, I still have the shopping to do. Could he and his wife be going to a different store than the one I am headed into? Hell no. That would mean I didn't have to keep seeing him for the next half hour as I got the pattern and material. Can't have that, now can we?
And they were just ahead of me in line to check out. Me, with my chest hanging out, and him with his wife. Thankfully the cashier was female, and totally disinterested.
For my next feat, I go to the bookstore. I figure if I have to be uncomfortable, I may as well do it someplace I enjoy. So I spent an hour wandering around the bookstore. I almost got a book on how to be a bad girl, but I figured it would be difficult to explain when I got home, so I went for a mystery instead. There were several male patrons, including one who was looking at some of the same books I was, but no male cashiers. Well, there was one, but evidently he was on a break. I know this, because the female cashier was complaining about his absence while taking my money.
So only one really close encounter, but lots of time spent feeling more exposed than I do if I just skip the bra entirely. Isn't that strange? I feel more vulnerable with the bra turned down than I do without one. I wonder why that is. All I know is that I had a hard time leaving the bathroom this evening. And yes, I was still out when you wrote. I left the office at a little after six. Got home a bit after eight.
Read your email. Fell for you all over again.
And that may be the scariest thing that has ever happened to me.
As far as the shirt is concerned, I am afraid you may have forgotten just exactly how large these breasts are. When the shirt is unbuttoned as far as you have me unbuttoning it, there isn't any way to avoid having them show. In fact, I keep expecting compliments on my birth mark. (You do remember the birth mark, don't you?)
Well, I got to the shopping center, and sure enough, as I finished getting out of the car, what did I see? Oh yeah, the guy in the next row of cars standing there watching me get out. So this is two days in a row that I have embarrassed myself. And of course, I still have the shopping to do. Could he and his wife be going to a different store than the one I am headed into? Hell no. That would mean I didn't have to keep seeing him for the next half hour as I got the pattern and material. Can't have that, now can we?
And they were just ahead of me in line to check out. Me, with my chest hanging out, and him with his wife. Thankfully the cashier was female, and totally disinterested.
For my next feat, I go to the bookstore. I figure if I have to be uncomfortable, I may as well do it someplace I enjoy. So I spent an hour wandering around the bookstore. I almost got a book on how to be a bad girl, but I figured it would be difficult to explain when I got home, so I went for a mystery instead. There were several male patrons, including one who was looking at some of the same books I was, but no male cashiers. Well, there was one, but evidently he was on a break. I know this, because the female cashier was complaining about his absence while taking my money.
So only one really close encounter, but lots of time spent feeling more exposed than I do if I just skip the bra entirely. Isn't that strange? I feel more vulnerable with the bra turned down than I do without one. I wonder why that is. All I know is that I had a hard time leaving the bathroom this evening. And yes, I was still out when you wrote. I left the office at a little after six. Got home a bit after eight.
Read your email. Fell for you all over again.
And that may be the scariest thing that has ever happened to me.
