Go to the bathroom

“I’m fine,” you say. The stranger shuts up. You stand, holding the purse and the phone in your hands.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“I’ll be right back,” you reply, without knowing the answer. You look around. You can see a hallway near the back of the bar.

You walk down the hall and you see the men’s and women’s rooms. You almost walk through the men's room door out of habit, but stop. You look down.

Three buttons of Shannon’s white blouse are open, revealing a triangle of her smooth white skin above her breasts. They’re more than a handful each, probably C-cup, but you’re not used to seeing tits from this angle.

You jiggle your - Shannon’s - shoulders experimentally. You feel the unfamiliar sensation of her breasts shaking from side to side, her bra trying to hold them in place under her blouse.

You touch Shannon’s tits through her clothes, lifting them up. It’s an alien feeling. You feel like you’re touching and being touched by a stranger. But it doesn’t feel unpleasant. If anything, Shannon's tits feel just as soft and womanly against her palms as they would feel on your own. There's also an exciting feeling in your - Shannon's - chest when you touch them.

The men’s room wouldn’t work, not with these tits. You remind yourself that you’re doing nothing wrong, and walk into the women’s room.

It’s a nice bathroom, with a black stone counter top and black sinks with hot and cold taps. There are three stalls with closed doors. You can’t see or hear any other women.