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Message-ID: <58216asstr$1225635003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Diola Dragontail <dioladragontail@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Lo and Behold (Chapter 25) [Asian, FF, exhib, voyeur]
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Date: Sun, 02 Nov 2008 09:10:03 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Chapter 25: A Private Show by Diola Dragontail

   "Hey, you're pretty good at that."

   The shock of hearing the voice sent a sudden jolt of panic through
Sara's entire body.  Sara's mind snapped out of its morning haze as she
spotted the source of the voice.  There was a forehead, a pair of brown
eyes, and a nose that was peering over the cubicle wall.

   Sara immediately felt as if she had been caught doing something she
shouldn't, that the owner of the voice could read her mind and know the
things that were passing through her mind's eye.

   "Sorry." The now mousey voice said apologetically.  "I didn't mean to
startle you."

   "It's okay." Sara forced a smile as she felt her anxiety level dropping.
"I just..."

   Sara's mind searched for an explanation for her daydreaming.  "...I
didn't get much sleep last night."

   The top of the head bobbed slowly, nodding in unquestioned agreement. 
"It's Monday."

   Sara really couldn't think of a reply to this pretty obvious
observation. Denise, the owner of the top of the head and the dweller in
the next cubicle, was a well meaning person, so Sara found it hard to get
irritated at her.

   "I didn't know you could draw." Denise commented, her eyes dropping back
to Sara's desk.

   Sara followed Denise's gaze and felt the floor of her stomach drop out
when she saw what had spurred the comment.

   Sara's hand was poised over a piece of scrap paper completely covered
with absent minded scribbles.  Most of it was indecipherable nonsense, but
buried in it were sketches of her family.  The poses were not entirely
motherly either.

   "Oh it's nothing." Sara's hand dropped the pencil she had been clutching
and crumpled the entire paper into a tight ball.

   Sara couldn't see the rest of Denise's face, but the wrinkles on her
forehead showed her disappointed frown.

   "I wish I could draw." Denise murmured wistfully, the movement of her
forehead suggested a helpless shrug.  "All I can do is stick figures and
rude cartoons."

   Sara blinked for a second, wondering how much Denise had seen of her
sketches.  She nervously laughed in reply as terrifying thoughts of being
discovered flashed through her mind.  Sara's hand squeezed the offending
ball of paper tighter in her fist, vainly attempting to compress it out of
existence.

   "Anyway," Denise's voice took a banal tone signaling a change of
subject, much to Sara's relief.  "Christopher wanted to know if you were
going to be done with that code today."

   Sara's mind processed quickly, trying to relate Denise's comment to
something of relative importance.  At the moment nothing at work really
struck her as being important.

   "I finished that this morning." Sara commented as her mind searched for
an escape from the situation.  "...I'll go talk to him myself right now."

   Denise's head bobbed in a nod once before disappearing back behind the
cubicle wall.

   Sara glanced at her fist, still squeezing the crumpled piece of scrap
paper.  Her knuckles were pale white from the pressure and she could feel
each awkward angle cutting against her skin.

   She looked around her cube for a safe place to dispose of the paper. 
The most obvious thing would be to send it through her shredder, but that
would involve smoothing it out.  That didn't really feel like something she
wanted to do.

   Instead she pulled open the middle drawer of her desk and pulled out her
purse.  She quickly stashed the paper deep in the recesses of her bag
before pushing the bag as far back in her drawer as she could.

   Sara stared up at the florescent office lights above her cube as she
contemplated her turbulent thoughts.  Her concentration raced from subject
to subject never dwelling long on any one thought.  Her mind felt like an
ocean wracked by a storm, towering waves heading in every direction.  She
felt herself bobbing up and down eye deep in the water struggling to stay
at the surface.

   She could feel her pulse racing in the way the blood throbbed at her
temples.  Instead of trying to sort out the thoughts in her mind, she
focused on the imagined storm instead.

   She pictured the wind slowing and the dark storm clouds lightening. 
Without the wind the waves died down to gentle swells.  She could feel
herself relaxing, no longer struggling to stay afloat.

   Sara tried not to think about anything as she stood up from her chair.
Her mind was a blank slate, serene and unfocused.

   With a lightness of step she strode out into the hallway of cubicle
walls.  She kept her mind focused on the minutia of the minute like the
sound of her shoes scraping against the flattened pile of the carpet and
the feel of her fingertips sliding along the fabric of the walls.

   "Christopher?" Sara announced herself as she tapped her knuckles on his
open office door.  "I went over the programming code this morning and it
looks good enough to release to Q&A for testing."

   The middle aged brown and grey haired man in the office looked away from
his computer monitor to look at Sara in his doorway.  "Oh, okay.  I'll let
them know."

   Sara watched him for a moment, weighing up her options.  "I'm not
feeling very well.  I think I am going to go home and take a sick day for
the rest of the day."

   The eyes of the brown and grey haired head narrowed as they studied her.
"Is everything okay?"

   "I just didn't sleep real well last night." Sara spoke in a low, almost
conspiratorial whisper.  She assumed that if she was intentionally vague he
would take the situation for something that he didn't want to know details
about.

   Sara's gamble paid off as the head nodded in agreement, "You go home and
get some rest and feel better tomorrow."

   "Thanks." Sara quickly turned and walked away from the office door,
thinking that every moment that she wasted would be another chance for him
to change his mind.

   Sara backed away from the door, thinking that if she turned her back to
him it might give him the opportunity to change his mind.  A break in eye
contact might give him the courage to inquire why she did not feel well.

   "I'll see you tomorrow." Sara said as she passed by Denise's cubicle. 
She kept her announcement short and without any added explanation, it
seemed prudent to escape before her phone rang or some other distraction
happened.

   "Feel better!" Denise's sympathetic eyes appeared above the cubicle wall
for a moment.  She seemed to be distracted by work of her own.

   Sara's hands moved quickly, the motions so practiced that they required
no independent thought.  One hand retrieving her purse while the other hand
logged her terminal off the network, a second later and her desk was being
locked at the same time as her keyboard was locked.

   All that was left was to walk the hallway gauntlet from her cubicle to
the front entrance.

   Sara felt a wave of elation fill her mind as she walked through the
parking lot towards her car.  It was the freedom of suddenly having an
entire day unexpectedly free of any obligations or errands.  She wondered
if this was how she had once felt on the first morning of summer vacation.

   Vacation now there was a thought.

   She restrained the urge to hop into her car, keeping her movements
measured and controlled instead.  In the back of her mind she had the fear
that someone would be watching her from the office.  See her excitement and
call her back inside just to squash her enjoyment.

   Once seated in her car she fished her cell phone out of her bag and
speed dialed her husband.  She felt more at ease now that she was in the
safety of her rather unimpressive four door, late model, banged up to hell
sedan.

   "Play hooky!" She immediately shouted into her phone once the connection
was made.  She didn't care if she was talking directly to him or just
leaving a voicemail.  "It's me.  I'm leaving early."

   Sara mock coughed in an exaggeratedly dramatic way.  "I'm not feeling
well.  Don't you want to play hooky with me?"

   Sara rolled her eyes at her husband's reply, "I know, I know.  Important
meetings.  You're just not as much fun as you use to be."

   She turned the ignition key as she listened to her husband's reply. 
"Well, how about lunch then?"

   Sara couldn't help but have a glazed over dumbfounded look as she
listened to the end of her husband's reply.  "Okay, fine, no lunch.  But I
think I should warn you that I am going to go spend money instead.  Since I
have no supervision and nothing to distract me."

   She allowed Mike the courtesy of a second to start his reply, but
quickly interrupted him.  "Sorry.  Got to go.  Shopping is calling.  Love
you!"

   She quickly closed the call and snapped the phone shut.  She really
didn't have any intention of spending a lot of money, but she figured it
couldn't hurt to let him assume the worst.  Then maybe he might think about
clearing his schedule the next time she had a mini-mid life crisis.

   What to do?  What to do?  A million different ideas passed through her
mind at once, completely overloading her decision process.

   On impulse she snatched up her purse from the passenger seat and fished
around in the dark recesses of it.  She pulled the crumpled ball of paper
as she glanced surreptitiously around the parking lot.  It felt safe to
smooth the paper out when she did not see anyone else nearby.

   Her mind calmed and galvanized as she gazed across the assorted doodled
and sketches.  An agenda for the day slowly took form.

   --------------------------------

   Sara felt like a kid in a candy store as she wandered up and down the
aisles of the art store.  It had been years since she had even thought
about doing any art, let alone visiting one of these stores again.  There
was always an excuse not to, not enough money or time, and then the excuses
just became nature.

   Her mind rolled back the years as her fingers absently browsed through
the various drawing pads on display.  She remembered all the praise her
high school art teacher had had for her work.  She found nothing but
encouragement there, but it was entirely a different story when she got
home.

   Both of her parents did not see there being any future to these
pursuits. The phrase "starving artist" had come up in more than one heated
conversation and it was never used in a positive light.  She wondered if
she had let them wear her down or if she really did just lose interest as
she always told herself.

   With a heavily exhaled sigh she emptied her lungs at the same time that
she dispelled the thoughts.  The small study pad under her fingertips was
just what she was looking for.  She lifted it from the display and could
not help but bring it to her nose.

   The musky pulp smell of the pad was vaguely familiar and helped fill her
mind with more pleasant memories.  Each area of the store had a smell of
its own the flat chemical tones of the oil paints and the raw wood smell of
the charcoals.

   A small voice, that she would normally call reason, was shouting in the
back of her head.  "This was a waste of money and time.  You'll just buy
these things and not do anything with them.  You're probably no good at it
anymore anyway."

   She recognized that what she would call reason was actually nervousness
and uncertainty.  She did her best to ignore the little voice, going so far
as to imagine herself pressing her hand over its mouth.  That had the
unexpected side effect of forcing her to imagine the face that owned the
mouth.  It did not surprise her at all when she instinctively pictured her
mother's face.

   Sara just kept it in her mind that nothing could stop her from picking
up a drawing pad again.

   With new found resolution she proceeded through the aisles, filling her
small basket with a variety of pencils, charcoal and drawing pads.  With
each item she picked up she felt her excitement growing in anticipation. 
For the most part she restrained herself from purchasing anything too
expensive.  She only thought about breaking this self-imposed rule when she
saw the leather bound portfolio book under the glass checkout counter.

   "Can I see that?" She asked the clerk who was in the midst of tallying
up her meager purchases.

   The old man glanced at her and she felt like she was being sized up to
see if she was just wasting his time.  Whatever he had decided about her
didn't stop him from opening the case and extracting the portfolio.  He
informed her of how much it was at the same time that he laid it down on
the counter.

   The price made Sara mentally wince, but it didn't stop her from
considering it.  The clerk kept one eye on her as he returned to adding up
her purchases.

   She had always wanted something like this to display her work in, but
she had never had the money for it.  As she ran her hand over the cold
leather of the cover she decided that not only was she going to buy it, but
she was going to make a point of filling it.

   She paid the final bill while her mind was still in a daze of plans and
scheduling.  It only partially occurred to her that she could not recall
how much she actually paid.  She had just turned over her plastic card and
signed the receipt without even glancing at it.

   She already decided that she needed to make time for her drawing every
day, which was going to require an effort on her part and discipline that
she had not used it quite some time.  She was also going to need a
considerable amount of cooperation, but that she could work on.

   Sara noticed the cork bulletin board as she started to open the door of
the store.  She stopped in front of it and just looked over the various
cards and scraps of paper.  All of them seemed familiar, like the bulletin
board and its environment might be different, but all of the notices were
the same.

   Advertisements of all shapes and sizes were tacked to the board;
requests for models, models looking for artists, artists looking to see
their art or their equipment.  The latter advertisements filled her with a
small sense of sadness.  She could only imagine formerly idealistic artists
losing faith in themselves, just like she had.

   She took a deep breath as she turned away from the board and headed to
her car.  She slipped her new purchases into the trunk, but took a moment
to extract one of the small pads, followed by a trio of pencils and the
metallic pencil sharpener.

   She sat back down in the driver's seat, contemplating her options as she
absent mindedly sharpened the new pencils.  She had something in mind to
do, something she had been considering doing anyway, and this just gave her
more incentive to do it.

   There was one thing that she knew for sure; there was no way she was
going through with it anywhere near home.

   ------------------

   The city was a forty minute drive on the highway but it was a small
price to pay to get peace of mind.  Sara knew of a few...  establishments
she could go to.  Not that she would admit knowing such things in casual
conversation.  The city did provide a bit of anonymity that she needed.

   Of course all of the adult stores she had in mind were in the seedier
areas.  At night time none of these places could be called safe, but in the
middle of the day it would be fine.

   Sara ducked into the first store she came upon.  It was not hard to spot
between the smoked glass and mirrored fa�ade.  It's appearance made it seem
d to be schizophrenic in nature, the dark glass made it seem like it wanted
to blend in, unnoticed.  But the abundance of mirrors just screamed 'Look
at me!'

   Sara noticed that the clerk behind the front counter took immediate
notice of her entrance.  The bags under his eyes betrayed his drowsy eyed
nature, but his narrow eyelids studied her as if he thought she was some
sort of trouble.  The handful of patrons in the mostly empty store had a
similar reaction to her presence.

   Unlike the clerk, the other customers were not trapped behind a counter.
Instead of staring at her, they scurried away like bats avoiding sunlight.
It made her feel somewhat empowered to have this much of an effect on other
people, particularly since she did not really care.

   She wondered what they must think she was here for.  Maybe she was a
vice cop come to inspect the premises?  Maybe a kinky nymphomaniac trolling
for amusements?  Or a na�ve tourist that had the misfortune of stumbling
into the wrong store?

   "Uh, hey?" The clerk found his voice just as Sara was about to venture
deeper into the store.  "I need to see some id."

   Sara blinked, somewhat surprised at the unexpected request.  "Why?"

   "You need to be an adult to be in here." He quickly replied, his voice
taking on a gruff demeanor of authority.

   For a brief moment Sara took this request to be a compliment, but common
sense took over like a two headed dragon.  One head told her that there was
no way he could mistake her for being underage.  The other head realized
that her anonymity was about to disappear.

   "I'm 36." Sara crossed her arms, returning his tone of voice.  She
figured that she had to have at least ten years on the clerk anyway.

   "Yeah, well." The clerk nervously replied, his voice backing down
slightly.  "Rules are rules, you know.  I don't need to get shut down."

   "Fine." Sara shrugged, relenting.  She figured that making a scene would
only draw more attention to her.  Besides one person knowing who she was
was hardly a disaster.

   She opened her purse and retrieved her driver's license as she took the
two steps to the counter holding the license in her hand.  She had no
intention of handing it over to him; in fact she had her thumb placed
across the center.  This kept both her name and address out of sight, but
left her picture and date of birth in plain view.

   She kept her eyes on the clerk challenging him to further question her.

   "Happy now, 'Bob'?" Sara asked sarcastically after having spied the
clerk's name tag.  She assumed the name was fake figuring him to be
operating under a certain amount of obscurity too.

   The clerk only glanced at the license and her face briefly, seemingly
eager to put this confrontation behind him.  "Just have to make sure, you
know."

   Sara rolled her eyes as she placed her license safely away.  She
remembered how Cat, her daughter, had confessed to coming to one of these
shops to purchase a vibrator.  Now she wondered how the girl had managed to
do that without meeting a similar difficulty.  She was going to need to
talk to that girl to about this.

   With the border police safely satisfied Sara was able to delve deeper
into the store.  She noticed that her effect on the other customers, all
male, was even more pronounced now.  Almost all of them were quick to move
out of her way when she approached.  They were all well dressed and
probably held down very respectable jobs.  No doubt their wives and
co-workers would probably be very surprised to find them here.

   Sara made it a point to smile to a few of them and their reaction was
predictably the same.  They quickly glanced at her face, but never in the
eyes, gave a nervous smile and just as quickly looked away.

   As she expected, the store was small and cramped, stocked mostly with
DVD videos.  She passed through these aisles, half glancing at the titles
as she passed, until she finally came upon what she was searching for.  In
front of her was a wall full of dildos and vibrators of every size, shape
and color imaginable.  Not to mention quite a number that she could not
possibly have imagined if she tried.

   Her eyes scanned across the inventory but everything she saw seemed too
large for the purpose she had in mind.  She contemplated asking the clerk
but decided against pressing her luck.  She could only assume that he would
just say no just to be rid of her as quick as possible.

   Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted what might just be what
she needed.  Too small to be a dildo, instead it was labeled as being a
butt plug.  And it vibrated, which made it seem even more perfect.

   She picked up the small box and looked it over, the clear plastic front
allowed her to study the contents in detail.  It was small and by holding
her thumb she was able to judge it to be slightly shorter and thinner than
her finger.  Flipping the box around she quickly read the back and, if it
was telling the truth, then the pale flesh toned plastic would be soft
enough to avoid causing an injury.

   It was just the thing she was looking for to give to Angela.  Sara hoped
it would be enough to satisfy the young girl's repeated requests to "have
one inside her." The last thing Sara needed was for her youngest daughter
to end up injuring herself by trying to do something on her own in
frustration.

   Sara tried not to think about the irony of the situation as she carried
the box to the front of the store.

   "I'll take this." Sara glanced towards the back of the store for a
moment.  "Are the booths open?"

   The clerk blinked at Sara with more than a slight bit of disbelief.

   The look on the clerk's face seemed to give Sara the answer to her
question.  "Give me thirty minutes worth of tokens too."

   ------------------

   The room stank worse than she remembered them; her first instinct was to
gag at the stale metallic smell that seemed to permeate everything.  A
cluster of tree shaped air fresheners hung in a corner adding a sickly
sweet smell.  The combination reminded her of overripe peaches that had
been neglected on a counter.

   The floor of the dark room seemed to have been recently cleaned but
remained faintly sticky anyway.  The floor gave a little resistance to each
step, followed by a gummy popping sound.  The general ambiance certainly
left something to be desired.

   A vinyl covered seat sat in the middle of the small room, a Formica
counter top directly in front of the chair made a small lip for the glass
window that dominated the front of the room.  A shade on the other side of
the glass obscured the view.

   Sara pulled a sheet from the roll of paper towels that stood on the
corner of the shelf.  She laid it on the ground on the side of the chair
before placing her bag on top of the paper.  She contemplated wiping the
chair down as well, but judging by the state of the chair it seemed like it
would be a wasted effort.

   The ancient vinyl crackled as she sat down in the seat and fished a
pencil and her small pad out of her bag.  She then slipped a token into the
feeder and watched as the shade behind the glass slowly rose.

   The woman who appeared was not unattractive, but she certainly had seen
better days.  Something in her 'normalcy' made her slightly more attractive
in Sara's eyes.  Her frizzy red hair seemed a bit askew and her sunken eyes
gave her the appearance of someone who had been up for far too many hours.

   Or maybe just had had way too hard of a life.

   It was obvious that the nameless woman made it a point not to look in
Sara's direction as she stood up from an equally worn vinyl covered love
seat.  She wore obscenely tall white high heels that looked like they would
need stilt training to operate safely.  Thigh high white stockings added to
this effect, making her legs seem unnaturally longer than they actually
were.

   Sara's eyes drank in every detail of the red head's legs, her hand
quickly sketching the long legs into her pad.  Her hand moved naturally,
muscle memory remembering how to draw even if her mind had forgotten many
of the details.

   The red head stalked around her room like a zoo cat who seemed bored
with its cage.  She seemed somewhat majestic just like one of those cats,
still not looking in Sara's direction, knowing that she was there but not
designing her as significant enough for attention.

   The tops of the stockings were clipped into place by a lacy white garter
belt that seemed more frill than function.  A matching pair of lacy white
panties gave just the hint of dark red pubic hair in the front, the thong
back fully exposing her butt as she turned.

   The image the red head's hidden pussy presented was interesting enough
for Sara to attempt to recreate it in her pad.  She quickly sketched a net
of strategically placed lace covering locks of curly dark hair, not enough
to be accurate but enough to jog her memory later.

   Sara attention fixated on an appendectomy scar just above the red head's
panties, partially hidden by the band of the garter belt.  The surgical
flaw made the red head imperfect and even more interesting, causing Sara's
hand to quickly recreate the discolored flesh that marred the otherwise
smooth skin.

   As the red head circled the room again her profile made Sara focus on
the way her breasts jutted from her chest.  They seemed disproportioned to
her frame, not exaggeratedly so that made them obviously fake, but just
slightly too large.  With them still hidden behind the white bra it was
impossible to tell if they were natural, fake or if it was just a trick of
the bra itself.

   A coincidence of movement broke the performer out of her routine; Sara
flipped her pad to a clean page just as the red head turned in her circle.
She stopped in her path as her eyes spied the movement and watched Sara
with a questioning expression.

   Sara glanced down at the pad, quickly sketching one of the eyes that
stared at her.  She was struck by the dark hue and, since she was using
just the single black pencil, wrote that they were an emerald green.  She
underlined the word green twice just to emphasize the degree of green they
were.  She assumed that some sort of contact lens was used to create the
effect since the vibrancy did not seem naturally possible.

   The red head continued to regard Sara for the first time, taking in the
unexpected situation before reaching for the wall.

   Sara heard a metallic click followed by the high pitched tone of the
woman's voice.

   "What are you doing?"

   "Just sketching you." Sara glanced up with a smile.  "You don't mind, do
you?"

   The question was an honest one; Sara wanted to respect the woman's
privacy, what there was of it anyway.  An unwilling subject was the last
thing she wanted.

   "No, I guess not." The red head shrugged the confused expression not
totally leaving her face.  "I mean, it's your money."

   Sara just smiled gratefully in reply, her hand never stopped moving,
continuing to sketch the nuances of the woman's face.

   The red head pointed down, "Your time is about to run out."

   "Oh." Sara paused for a moment and fed all of the remaining tokens into
the slot.  She did not think she would need the amount of time that she
purchased, but she felt she was paying what she thought the effort was
worth.

   "Thanks." The red head replied as she watched the coins disappear into
the machine.  "My name is Glitter, by the way."

   "Sara." Being distracted she had responded instinctively, providing her
real name.  It probably was not important, but the slip still annoyed her.
She wrote Glitter at the top of the page, surrounding it with quotes since
she doubted it was the red head's given name.

   "Hi." The quizzical look left Glitter's face as she returned to business
mode.  "So is there anything you'd like to see?"

   Sara thought for a moment and then gave a small smile.  "Just do
whatever you feel comfortable doing.  I'm sure I'll find plenty to draw."

   For twenty minutes Glitter stepped through a number of poses, all of
which seemed routine to her.  Sara did her best to commit each of them to
paper, roughly sketching the angle of limbs and the fall of shadows. 
Images not intended to be a final product but meant to jog her memory when
she had more time.

   All through this not a single article of Glitter's meager clothing had
come off.  Sara's artistic interest had been piqued and it fostered an
intense need to see what was underneath.

   "Show mommy your titties." The words tumbled out of Sara's mouth without
thought.  Time seemed to stand still for Sara as she waited for the red
head's reaction.  She expected the worst and the need to run for the exit
grew in her mind.

   "Mmm, mommy wants to see them?" Glitter asked, not seeming the least bit
surprised.  Sara could only assume that maybe she had heard worse before
and it took considerably more to shock her.

   "Yes, please." Sara felt a little more at ease and giving voice to her
hidden thoughts now took on a perverse pleasure.  "Mommy wants to see all
of you."

   It almost felt like a game, a challenge to see just how much Sara could
say before she could get a reaction out of this world weary woman.  Just
how much would it take for those jaded eyes to stop and question her?  How
much would it take for this stranger to call Sara out?

   A small smile crept onto Glitter's lips as her fingers played across her
breasts, her fingers lingering over where Sara imagined the red head's
nipples to be.

   Sara felt dirty in a way she had not imagined before.  She felt ashamed
to have admitted her baser thoughts to this perfect stranger.  But, at the
same time, she felt liberated and more than a bit excited at the rawness of
the situation.

   Glitter's breasts fell free, spilling out of the cups of the bra.  They
dangled slightly heavy, proving they were real, but still had the slight
pertness that could only come with youth.

   Sara stared at them as her hand sketching the fleshy mounds in detail.
Making sure to record the dark pink shading that surrounded the small
nipples.  She watched as Glitter licked her fingers and ran them over her
nipples, making the skin glisten in the dim lighting.

   "Do you like that, mommy?" Glitter asked, just before lifting one of her
breasts and licking her own nipple directly.

   Sara gasped slightly, wishing her own chest was large enough to do
something similar.  Not wanting to forget the image she crudely sketched
the image using a figure whose only details consisted of a pair of lips, a
tongue and a nipple.

   "I wish you could lick them for me, mommy." Glitter added as her head
and hands moved to repeat the licking with her other breast.

   "I'd love to honey." Sara's whispered huskily.  Again she found words
passing her lips by accident, "Do you want to see mommy's tits too?"

   "Mmm, yes please mommy." Glitter stopped licking herself, leaning
forward in her chair to look at Sara.

   "Okay." Sara slipped her pad and pencil back into her bag.  Had she
really come to this point?  About to give a show to someone that she was
paying money to see?  The idea made her feel even dirtier.

   Sara quickly unbuttoned her blouse down to her naval, eager to show her
own body off, hoping that this stranger would approve of her appearance. 
She did not even hesitate as her fingers unhooked the front clasp of her
bra.

   Some small amount of common sense remained with her and she just let the
bra and blouse dangle from her shoulders.  Still somewhat in place if she
felt the need to make a quick exit from the dark room.

   As the red head stared at her, Sara cupped her own breasts and massaged
the tender flesh with her palms.  She wondered if Glitter was actually
interested in her or if the red head was just humoring a paying customer.
It did not matter one way or the other in Sara's mind, she was happy just
enjoying the moment.

   "Mmm," Glitter made an exaggerated lip movement, her tongue snaking out
and moistening her lips.  Her hand dropped down between her legs and began
to rub her white panties against her still hidden pussy.  "You're making me
so hot, mommy."

   "Show me how you play with yourself, honey." Sara could hear her own
voice taking on a demanding hiss of a tone.  "I want to see what you show
all the dirty old men that come in here to see my little girl."

   Glitter did not say a word as she slipped off of her chair, her hands
pushing down her panties as she stepped closer to the glass window.  The
dark red hair locks appearing when she was just an inch from the glass. 
The band of her panties continued to cover the rest of her pussy,
intentionally teasing Sara.

   Without a moment's hesitation Sara slide her hand under her skirt,
roughly grabbing her own pussy and squeezing.  The sudden pressure made her
body shake and accentuated her need for release.

   "Play with yourself, mommy." Glitter whispered, sliding her panties
further down but not off, exposing her wet lips to Sara's needy eyes.

   Sara's fingers began to rub herself through her panties as she took in
every detail of Glitter's exposed skin.  Her lips looked dark red and
puffy, as if they had been used too often or too recently.  Her pussy
seemed to open eagerly, like it needed to feel Sara filling it with
something.

   Glitter's fingers stroked her lips roughly, causing them to moisten and
glisten even more.  Her hips pushing close to the glass, just shy of
touching.  The red head started gasping as her fingers pushed inside
herself, the sound of wet flesh squishing together filled the small room.

   Sara could not tell if all of this was just an act on Glitter's part and
she did not care one way or the other.  She clumsily pushed the gusset of
her panties to the side, her only thought being to feel more.  Sara's
fingers drilling into herself as she continued to stare at Glitter's show.

   "Oh, mommy...  I'm going to cum..." The red head moaned, her neck
bending backwards and her face looking towards the ceiling.  White bubbly
foam collected around her fingers and began staining her red hair.

   The thought that that was some nameless man's sperm pushed Sara's mind
over the edge.  A quick, violent orgasm shot through her body like a
bullet, making her limbs shake quickly.  It was far from the best climax
she had ever had, but was still somewhat fulfilling for the moment.

   Sara's logical mind took over before the last remnants of pleasure had
left her body.  Common sense and embarrassment told her that it was past
time to go.

   "Thank you." Sara said in a small, mousey voice as she quickly pulled
her bra back into place.  She made it a point not to look at the red head
as she tore a paper towel free to wipe her fingers.

   For the first time she think she understood the woman's detached
movements at the start of the show.  Her intentional lack of eye contact
made perfect sense now.

   "You're welcome." Glitter's business like voice showed that all pretense
of casual friendliness was gone now.

   Sara felt relieved when the shade dropped back into place.  She was sure
the rest of the time she had purchased had not run out.  More likely
Glitter had intentionally dropped it, sparing both of them any further
uncomfortable interaction.  

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

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