"Hello, what's this?"
Megan froze at the sound of the man's voice, panicking that she had been discovered. She held her breath, fear running through her body, esspecially when she felt something shifting in her lap.
Looking down she saw the sleeve of her checked shirt hanging out from under the cloth, a hand slowly tugging it out. She wanted to grab it, to pull it back, but she knew if the man felt resistance he may actually check under the table to find out what was stopping it.
She was trapped in her indecision for only a couple of seconds, but it was enough. Instead of staring down at her shirt, she now once again had a clear view of her exposed pussy. If the man looked for anything else under the table now she would have no way to hide.
Instinctively she moved her hands, into her lap for cover, trying to ignore the moisture she could feel between her legs, as she stared at the feet on the other side of the cloth. The moment seemed to stretch on into infinity, until she finally heard the voice again.
"Who leaves shirts in the shoe section," the man grumbled, and the feet suddenly turned away, walking back down the aisle, presumably taking her shirt with her.
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