The Changing Cubicle

His long middle finger pushed the material of my dress
deep into the cleft between my buttocks, then continued
further until it reached my pussy. Fortunately his
grope was masked by the throng in the crowded
department store through which we were hurrying.

On my cheek, his breath was hot but sweet, “Where are
you taking me?”

I didn’t reply but tugged on his hand.

I can only place the blame for this situation on my
friend. Incredibly, it was no more than forty-five
minutes ago that she had tricked me. She knew that I
could never refuse a dare.

We were a ‘hot couple’, Sarah and I, according to those
in our circle of friends. ‘Like two peas in a pod.’ We
met in school and became inseparable, so it seemed only
natural that we should become sexual partners.

There is an essential difference between us; Sarah
restricts her sexual activities uniquely to females; I
am bi-sexual.

Does Sarah mind sharing me with the men in my life? Not
if her response to the details I reveal of my latest
male encounter is to be believed. During our lovemaking
I describe in lurid detail, even replicating as far as
is possible, what the guy has done.

Yes I take the more dominant role; my lover is happier
taking the submissive part.

So, we sat at a pavement table at our favorite
restaurant discussing all the things important to us.

Sarah stopped listening to me. She stared across the
road. I turned my head; my eyes scanning the
pedestrians, to find what it was that had caught her
eye.

The girls there were pretty enough but not outstanding.
Nor were they attired in anything particularly
outstanding.

“What’s got your attention baby?”

Without blinking, and without taking her eyes from the
object of her attention she murmured huskily, “Oh my
gosh, what a honey.”

My face flushed, and inexplicably I felt a pang of
jealousy. “Point her out; I’ll scratch her eyes out.”

My darling ignored me, “Oh my, he’s coming over.”

It took a second for the important word to sink into my
brain. HE! “He?” I repeated. A guy? Sarah was getting
the hots for a guy?

I took hold of her wrist to check for a racing pulse.
She shook me off as if I was some minor irritation.

Before I could remonstrate, the guy was at our table.

He had eyes for only Sarah; to him I did not exist.

“I saw you across the road…” they said in
synchronicity.

Now, I am considered by my peers, both guys and girls,
as intelligent, with a quick wit. It must have been the
anger mounting in me that clouded my thoughts and
judgment. It angered me that my lover was not only
ignoring me, but in favour of a man!

“My, my, my… Sarah is so right, what a hunk!” I
allowed myself to closely examine him, as his eyes
never left my partner. Mentally I undressed him.

Fully dressed he impressed; sharp business suit,
expensive shoes, silk shirt. Intense blue eyes. Rugged
jaw-line. Tall, slim body. An ‘Oyster’ around his
wrist. No rings.

Picking up my mobile I popped it into my bag.

“And just where do you think you are off to?” Sarah
addressed me but her eyes never left his. Her hand
rested on his.

“How…” I stopped short of saying, ‘dare you’.

My anger welled up. My darling, compliant lover talking
to me in that way. My taking second place to a guy in
her affections. I glared at them both.

“Hey, you don’t think I can get me a man?” taunted
Sarah.

“But…” The ‘why would you want one’ went unsaid.

“I will have him first,” I threatened. It was at that
stage an empty threat.

“Well I don’t think so, we are meeting tonight,”
boasted my friend.

Without thinking of my words or the consequence of them
I blurted out, “Then I will have him now!”

Sarah threw back her head and laughed loudly, “Where,
how? Impossible! I dare you.”

“Nothing, my darling, is impossible for me.” I grabbed
his hand.

So now we continue through the crush of shoppers. I
have a place in mind. A place of my fantasies.

At the back of the female section were the changing
rooms. As we passed by I grabbed clothing from the
rails.

“I’m sorry sir this area is reserved for ladies,” the
assistant grabbed the guy’s sleeve.

“It’s ok,” I smiled, “we’re in a hurry and I need his
opinion.”

Reluctantly she counted the number of articles and gave
me a tag, then directed us to the cubicle nearest.

Inside, he grinned like the proverbial Cheshire cat,
opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped any words by
planting my lips on his. And sister could he kiss!

His arms swept around me pulling my body to him. I
needed space. Space to ensure that this hunk had the
necessary equipment to do what I had in mind.

My hand dived to his pants, running it over the front.
He was aroused. What a lump!

Encouraged, his hands grabbed my breasts. His reaction
was of pleasant surprise when he discovered I wore no
bra. And true to the male species, that lead his
thoughts to speculate on the possibility of a girl who
goes commando.

Diving his hand under my dress he found that all of his
birthdays had arrived at once.

A knee thrust between my legs forcing them apart,
giving his long nimble fingers access to my, by now,
very aroused pussy.

There was no time for niceties. I reached for his zip.
The ‘zzzzzz’ as I pulled it down gave me a thrill.
Liberating his cock revealed it was thick and long to
the touch. I stole a satisfying look. But the proof of
its abilities would be as soon as I could get it in me.

“How?” he asked.

I turned around and bent over in answer. “Just do it!”
I demanded.

Lifting my dress he placed the head of his cock at my
pussy and pressed tentatively.

Rocking back on my heels I thrust my hips backwards
towards him, impaling my desperately wanting vulva on
his cock. “Fuck me” I hissed hoarsely.

He got the message. So too did the store assistant.
“Everything ok madam?” She sounded concerned.

My ‘Yes’ sounded somewhat less than convincing due to
me receiving the full length of a cock that was thick
enough to open my depths with a force that took away my
breath.

The guy plunged his meat into me, and quickly a rhythm
was established; he thrusting forward; I rocking back
to meet him.

The urgency coupled with the excitement of the
situation soon had us reaching a climax. Unfortunately
I am not known for my reserve or silence at such times
and a very concerned sounding store assistant called
out, “Sir, madam, I really must ask you to vacate the
booth now.”

I swear that the half dozen or so women in the changing
room area looked at us with envy as I handed back the
clothing and grinned at them.

Of course that little brat Sarah had set it all up.

I had thought to teach her a lesson by not acceding to
her demands to replicate the changing room fun in our
lovemaking that night, but those warm dark eyes, those
sweet lips and her ‘rabbit’ buzzing inside me,
convinced me otherwise.

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