For the briefest of moments, I actually considered getting a drink from the fountain; sanity prevailed when I recalled the state of the rest room. I turned back toward the door, toward a brief stretch of my legs in the chilly night air, followed by more hours of staring through the bug-splattered windshield at the endless stream of white paint stripes.I almost ran over her, so distracted was I.She was a completely unremarkable woman, perhaps ten years older than myself. Her brown hair was mussed and not at all styled; if she'd been driving as I'd been, that was understandable. Her face was, in a word, average. Not that she was ugly, but she certainly would never have won any beauty contests. Her light blue windbreaker was pulled tightly around her body; she had what would in earlier times be called a Renaissance figure.What struck me most, however, was the expression on her face. She had a look of desperation. There was no other word adequate to describe it. I knew the look well; I'd. Mike shook himself out of the trance and stopped himself from staring at her breasts and pussy and finally left the cubicle.Beth bought one set of matching bra and knickers and the leather playsuit. She also bought one for Maggie as well, but without Mike knowing.On the way home they made polite conversation. Beth was as horny as hell and couldn’t wait until the evening. Mike remained quiet; all sorts of thoughts were running through his head. He was attracted to Beth for sure, he saw a lusty, sexy woman in the store that he had not seen at the house. She had wonderful breasts and a wonderful looking pussy and arse, but thought no more of it.Beth started a conversation; the silence was killing her.“Did you mean what you said, back there, in the cubicle?”“What do you mean?”“Well, when I turned around, in that leather playsuit, you said, fuck me!” Beth opened her eyes as she pronounced the last two words. The smile on her face reflected Mike’s unease.“Just a turn of phrase, Beth, you.
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