Supermarket

As per the orders I had received, I approach my bed and climb ontop. Still fresh from the shower, still naked. Kneeling, I grab my legs, wiggle around, and tie my upper legs to my lower. My legs spread, already dripping onto the towel I had placed beneath me, I begin what I believe will be a much needed release.

As directed, as orderd, I begin. No matter how long it takes, I'll . . . bring myself to a quick orgasm? Well, darn. Yay and darn. The quickness was not ordered, but likely the result of my condition, my need. As normal, well, not normal last month, but my new normal. I quickly regain my heightened arousal, especially as I knew, almost, what the night had in store for me. Oddly, orders had not been given nor received as to what I was to wear on this task. Probably because she knew, somehow, that with my peak arousal and somewhat overwhelmed state of mind, I would probably go down the path I took. The path to my less than ideal clothing selection.

I was too aroused, to in need. Needing to get this task completed so I can return. Needed to get to the next stage, and the one after, the one where I'd see and be with my Mistress. So I grabbed whatever clothing I had near me. Clothing I normally would not wear, though bought because of how revealing they were. Bought for a different version of myself. Which, apparently, I've found. I pulled on my short black mini-skirt, and a rather tight black shirt (I somewhat wish that I had not worn something so revealing, and somewhat wish I had something better than a tight t-shirt). I pull on my shoes and head for the door.

Standing on the other side I take in the air. Feeling the slight wind brush me. The leaves whispering to me. The, crap. How am I supposed to lock the door without keys? Or, for that matter, buy anything without money?

Returning inside, I grab my keys and some money. To think, I could have accidentally locked myself out there in these clothes. Keyless, lacking money. It's a dangerous thought. One that makes me wiggle, and one that cannot happen. I've had doors that automatically locked. Not at the moment, though.

Sitting in my car in my driveway, I almost stop; almost go back inside to change. I had caught a brief glimpse of myself in a mirror when I was exiting my place. Now that I'm sitting and not rushing around, the image from the mirror comes back to me. I look into my rearview mirror. It can only give an impression, not show what I'd seen in my hallway mirror. But it's enough. I see more than I expected to see. I have never before exposed myself like this in public. Well, not on purpose. I glance down at my almost bare legs, the bottom of my skirt following short of where I'd want it normally to fall. Well, I'm covered. More or less. I probably should have put on more clothing. You know, like a bra. Or something under the skirt. My hard and sensitive nipples are clearly outlined by my tight shirt; my skirt might be short, but at least it is covering me enough that my arousal is not clearly revealed by an unprotected and exposed pussy. Hmm, but I'm sitting. And I'm not sure everything is going to be covered from curious onlookers. Or shocked and disproving eyes. Okay, so I'll try not to bend over or anything like that. I'm sitting in a parking garage under my apartment. On the fourth floor. It will take too long to return to my apartment and change. Really. I think.

My need is too great to return to change, and too great to do the smart thing and drive to a supermarket a little distant from my normal one. I did the second foolish thing. I went to my own local supermarket. I am allowed to orgasm again when I return home with my purchases, and my need is great.