Just out of reach

The store was crowded, but also empty. The shelves seeming to lean in towards each other, overladen with what seemed like a completely random selection of everything you didn’t need right now. It was a far cry from the brutally efficient supermarkets where you used to live. Those were designed to let you find what you needed then throw you back out the door as soon as possible. While this place seemed to threaten you'd become lost and buried under some long forgotten boxes of out of date pasta at the back, and never be seen again.

The two young men at the checkout were laughing and joking with each other as you came in… though you noticed a distinct stutter to their conversation as you passed. Exactly the sort of pause which might occur when two red blooded males couldn’t help but check out your ass, you thought. The possibility sending you quickly on down an aisle with warm cheeks, but a little more sway to your step.

You weaved between the teetering stacks of boxes and tins, looking for any items which were near approximations of what you had on your list. It was quite fun, really... to work out just what you could make a meal out of in all these strange-shaped vegetables and 'locally made' produce. Soon enough there was only one essential item left to find… and it was the one you were most unsure would be available, but least wanted to have to go ask about. You scoured the shop for a good ten minutes, circling the whole place twice… before you finally spied what you were looking for: There, on the very top shelf. Was a large tub of Vaseline.

Lube was not an optional necessity in your household… and without the late-night opening, discreet little sex shops you were used to… supplies were running short. So here was a chance to restock you simply could not pass by. Yet, where it currently sat waiting… was far beyond your reach. Looking around in anguish, you were suddenly heartened again: there, to one side, lay a wheelable stool for just this very purpose. You collected it without delay and, setting down your basket, began the precarious task of ascending in those oh-so impractical heels. You managed to clamber up alright, and stretch yourself skyward… but, even then, the tub was just out of reach.

At that very moment of scrabbling defeat, a voice suddenly rang out from behind you: "Can I help, Miss?"

It was one of the store clerks from the checkouts… and he was tall. He must have been about your own age, with tousled red hair and the makings of a beard. He reached up beside you easily, and handed over the Vaseline without a comment. What he said next, however sent shivers running through your spine.

"We've been sorta meaning to tell you since you walked in… Your skirt… at the back."

You looked at him in blank horror, completely baffled by what he could mean. Then, slowly, craned your neck around to consider your own posterior. One of the flared sections of the lowest layer of your oh-so flowy skirt… was caught up in your panties. It must have been like that since you slid your silver companion in and wriggled those lacy undergarments up. The true reality of the entire morning set in: Every. Single. Person. You'd passed on the way here, must have been able to see flashes of that silky, red material… if not a whole lot more.

Mortification… along with a memory of every single smile you'd met. Came crashing in immediately. Your face bloomed a crimson almost identical to the material which had caused such dismay and… You promptly fell off the stool.