Bored One Saturday Afternoon

It was the morning of what was promising to be another hot, hazy Saturday in early August. While I normally like the heat, the last ten days of high temperatures over forty degrees Celsius and lows in the upper twenties were too much for even me.

The gang, James, George, Fred, Josie, Francine, Jessica, Carol, her new boyfriend Harry, and I, Jane, had spent the daylight hours of last weekend at Rona Beach.

We’d abandoned the beach at about 2:30 on Sunday because there was no relief from going into the water that had reached a horrible, tepid bathwater temperature. We’d also left because Fred, Josie, and Carol were sporting bad burns where they’d missed putting on sunscreen.

As the forecast didn’t predict any break in the temperature, no one wanted to do too much this weekend. George, James, Francine, Jessica, and I finally, after much indecision on everyone’s part, agreed to think overnight about some outdoor activity we could do in a shady location. As I had been the driver behind doing something, I had agreed to call everyone in the morning and coordinate getting together.

After talking to James and Francine, both of whom had had no ideas, I called Jessica.

While she hadn’t thought of anything either, she did suggest that everyone interested get together at 10:00 in the Stanley Shopping Centre food court to have breakfast and toss around some ideas. She agreed to call James and Francine while I called George and Jessica.

By ten past 10:00, Francine and Jessica had joined me at a table in the food court. As Jessica joined us, she said, “James wimped out. He said it was just too hot to do anything.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “George too. He said there was a tennis match on television, and he was just going to sit around in his underwear drinking beer while he watched it.”

“So, it’s just the three of us,” Francine said. “Do you girls have any ideas?”

“Yeah,” said Jessica. “Let’s get some food. I’m starving. I can’t think on an empty stomach.”

Sitting around the table finishing our coffee, Jessica leaned to the centre of the table and whispered, “Don’t stare at her, but take a look at that woman over there. She’s sitting at the table two behind Francine. I know it’s hot, but I think that she’s gone a bit too far. She just reached over to pick up something off the floor. Not only did her blouse gape open to let me see her tits, but I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing anything under her skirt.”

“What do you mean?” Francine asked.

“I mean, I’m fairly sure I got a look at her naked pussy. I think that she’s naked under the skirt and the blouse.”

Francine and I got up and stood behind Jessica, pretending to look at something she had taken out of her purse, while we checked out the woman Jessica had pointed out.

We stood there looking into her purse while we waited to see if we could confirm her suspicion.

After a couple of minutes, her elbow knocked something off her table. It hit the floor and bounced under the legs of the table.

With an annoyed look on her face, she swung a leg out from under the table and bent over trying to find it. As she sat there with her legs spread, I could see quite clearly that not only was she pantyless, but she was shaven too.

After a couple of seconds, she saw the thing that had fallen from her table and stretched to try and reach it. Not being able to reach it, she got up from her chair and, facing us, got down on her hands and knees to crawl under the table.

As she was under the table, the front of her blouse gaped open, giving us an unobstructed view of her naked tits. Glancing away from her show, I saw two young men sitting at a table just in front of us, intently staring in her direction.

Six or seven minutes later, something else fell off her table. Again, she swung one of her legs out to reach down and pick up the item. This time I watched the two men and saw that they were intently staring at her exposed crotch.

When she was seated normally again, they huddled together, talking excitedly.

I leaned over to Francine and said, “I don’t think that things are accidentally falling off her table. I think that she’s flashing those two men over there."

“Really?” Francine whispered back as she looked at the two men. As she did, the woman dropped something else and gave the men another flash.

When things returned to normal, she leaned over to me and whispered, “I think that you’re right. She’s deliberately flashing them.”

Noticing us whispering, Jessica leaned over and said in a low voice, “What’s up?”

Francine leaned over and whispered our suspicions to her.

Over the next fifteen minutes, we watched her accidentally drop things three more times. Each time she gave the men prolonged flashes of both her bare pussy and her tits.

As she stood up to take her seat after the third time, she glanced at her watch and, with a bit of a shocked look, gathered up all her stuff.

Before she walked away, though, she bent over from the waist to pick up her purse from the floor and gave the men a really good look at her bare butt.

Her path out of the food court took her past our table. As she approached us, Francine, who is never the shy one, caught her eye and, winking at her, gave her a big smile with a knowing look on her face.

The woman, as she became aware that we knew what she’d been doing, started to blush.

Francine whispered to her as she passed the table, “That looked like fun. Was it?”

“It sure was,” she said, slowing down. “It sure was. I work in the mall, so I can do it most lunch hours. It’s especially entertaining when you get an audience like today.”

With that, she was off down the mall.

Jessica whispered, “Forward. She’s really forward. I don’t think that I could do that. Especially to strangers.”

Francine responded, “I don’t know. Some friends and I had flashed our panties at people before. I know what that woman meant because it was a real turn-on. Giselle, who was the most brazen of our group, didn’t wear any panties often and flashed her crotch at anyone who would look. We all had quite a laugh as three of the men we passed tried to hide their erections.”

“You flashed strangers!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “We felt it was safer because no one we flashed knew us from a hole in the ground, and the others in our group could always run interference if someone got too aggressive.”

“I see your point,” I replied knowingly.

“Since then, I’ve done it a couple of other times with other girlfriends. The last time was last summer when Joy, Helen, and I did it right here in this mall.”

“We had a blast until one old bitty pointed us out to a security guard who escorted us from the mall. It was an interesting experience because of the comment he made, as he made sure we were leaving, “Girls, I don’t care whether you flash or not. I only start to care when either one of the tenants or one of the customers starts to complain. So, if you feel the need to expose yourselves, just make sure you don’t get caught.”

Chatting back and forth, we asked Francine all sorts of questions about how they chose their targets, how they felt, and how they got away.

As our conversation started to die down, Francine posed the question, “Well, girls. Do I take it from all this interest that this is something you want to try? Do we want to flash some people as our entertainment for the afternoon?”

Jessica immediately responded with, “No,” and looked at me to side with her.

“I don’t know. I’ve always had a fantasy of being nude in public. Besides, I don’t have anything else to do.”

“What about it, Jessica? Do you feel like living on the wild side for a couple of hours? It sounds like it’s perfectly safe.”

Jessica looked at me in shock as she replied in a timid voice, “Are you nuts? You want me to expose myself, uh, to strangers, uh, in public?”

“Yeah,” I said enthusiastically. “That’s what I want us to do. Are you in Francine?”

Seeing her affirmative nod, I turned to Jessica and said, “What about you, Jessica? Or are you too chicken?”

“I’m not chicken,” she replied in a haughty, offended voice. “It’s just that I don’t see the point.”

“There isn’t any point,” I replied. “That’s the whole point. It’s meaningless fun. It’s getting a high from doing something a little risky.”

“Yeah. Well,” she replied in a wavering voice. “But we’re not dressed to flash. We’ve all got shorts and tube tops on.”

“That’s not a problem,” said Francine. “Second Time Around is on the first floor. It’s a second-hand clothes store. I’ve picked up skirts and blouses there fairly cheaply. Last time I was there, I got a skirt and blouse for six bucks.”

Looking at Jessica, she continued, “This is bringing back so many good memories that I’ll spring for your clothes if you agree to try it once. If you don’t like it, you won’t have to do it a second time. Okay?”

With a shocked look on her face, Jessica exclaimed, “What do you mean a second time?”

“Yeah! What do you mean?” I said with a startled look.

Francine, looking back and forth between Jessica and me, said with a big smile, “Believe me. It’s no fun to just do it once. It’s like having orgasms. One is nice, but a double or triple is a whole lot nicer.”

“Oh,” I said, not wanting to let on that I’d only ever had singles. “I suppose you’re right.”

Standing up, Francine said, “Let’s get going then. Second Time Around is right below us on the first floor.”

We made our way to the store and began browsing. Jessica and I poked through things slowly, while Francine looked through every corner of the store enthusiastically.

Approaching us with a pile of clothing in her arms after about ten minutes, she said, “You look like a size six, Jessica.”

As she handed a pile of clothes to her, she said, “These blouses are all size ten and above. They should fit nicely and loose on you. The skirts are sizes four and five.”

Turning to me, she said, “Are you a size eight? Here’s a bunch of size twelve and fourteen blouses. There’s half a dozen size six, seven or eight skirts, and two size seven sundresses. When you’ve figured out what you want, come on out and let me see. Remember that we’re trying to get maximum accidental exposure, not fashion excellence. The change rooms are over there.”

Going into one of the changing rooms, I fully stripped and started trying on the clothes Francine had found for me.

The blouses were all miles too big and looked it. In my mind, they made me look like I was trying to expose myself.

On the other hand, the skirts were all too small. Four of them didn’t even go over my hips. The other two made it over my hips, but if I tried to sit in them, I’d split them. There was just no give at all.

Trying on the sundresses, I ran into the problem that, except for one of them, they were so big that they fell off my shoulders. The other was perfect for what we wanted to do but was way too long. I’d never be able to expose my crotch to anyone in it.

Getting a little discouraged, I had a thought as I stood to look at myself in the mirror. I pulled out and put on the yellow sleeveless pullover blouse that I had already tried on.

‘This is almost perfect,’ I thought as I looked at myself in the mirror. ‘It’s so big that it almost looks like a shift dress on me.’

Remembering that it was a size twelve, I thought, ‘I wonder if they have this in a fourteen or fifteen? If they do, it’ll be just long enough to cover my crotch and even a looser fit.'

I said through the change-room door, “Are you there, Francine?”

Hearing her positive response, I continued, holding the blouse over the door, “Can you see if they have this in a fourteen or fifteen?”

“Just a second.”

A couple of minutes later I heard a knock on the door, and Francine, as she handed two blouses over the door, said, “Here’s both a fourteen and a fifteen. They didn’t have a yellow one in those sizes. What’s up?”

“Hang on a minute and I’ll show you,” I replied excitedly.

Slipping on the pale green size fifteen, I thought, looking in the mirror, ‘Great! This looks just like a dress.’

Hunching my shoulders, I tried to see what I could see through the armholes. When I squatted, I saw that it fell in a manner that, with only a small jiggle of my hips, my crotch was fully exposed.

I then got down on my hands and knees in front of the mirror. Looking at myself head-on, I saw that it gaped just the way it had for the woman in the food court had, giving a perfect look at my boobs. Looking at myself in profile, while I was on my hands and knees, I saw that the hem of the dress rose to the middle of my bum.

Getting to my feet, I tried to see what was exposed when I bent at the waist. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell.

I said through the door to Francine, “Francine, do you want to see?”

“Just a minute,” she replied.

A couple of minutes later, as I stood in my blouse dress in the dressing room, there was a knock on the door, and I heard Francine say, “Let’s see.”

I opened the door and did a slow turn for her. “Very imaginative,” she said appreciatively.

“Nothing else really worked,” I said.

“The other blouses made it look like I was trying to expose myself. The skirts were all too small. I couldn’t even get most of them over my hips. I was getting a little discouraged when I thought that this blouse looked almost like a shift dress.”

“How alone are we?” I whispered.

“There’s only the three of us,” she whispered back.

“Good,” I said. “What can you see from behind when I bend over?”

“Everything,” she said with a big smile. “Absolutely everything. The hem rises above the middle of your butt, and if you spread your legs a little, both your butt and your pussy are fully exposed. Actually, stand up straight. Start to bend over slowly, and I’ll tell you when you’re showing.”

I’d just passed about forty-five degrees when she said, “There. Your pussy is showing there. If you spread your feet to about twelve to eighteen inches, it would show a bit earlier and a whole lot better.”

Standing up, I turned towards her and said, “That means if I lean over a counter, I’ll be showing.”

“Oh yeah,” she replied with a big grin. “You certainly will be out there in all your glory.”

“Let’s see your outfit.”

She had on a white flounce skirt that came to just below her crotch and a loose, light yellow football cut-off singlet that came just to the bottom of her ribcage.

“Very nice,” I said appreciatively.

“Look,” she said as she turned so I could see her side. “If I hunch my back, the armholes gape, and you can see my tits. If I bend over a little, the front gapes open.”

“Not only that,” I said. “It falls away from you, so you get a perfect up-blouse view too.”

“The bottom is like yours,” she continued as she bent over from the waist.

“I don’t have to bend over too far before my ass is easily seen. If I spread my legs slightly, you get a rear view of my pussy. I tried sitting with it on. If I sit normally, it falls so that I’m completely covered. But if I pull it tight, I'm fully exposed.”

“How’s Jessica doing?” I asked as I gave her a thumbs up.

“Not as well as you,” she replied. “I don’t think that she’s really into this.”

I went out into the corridor and whispered at her change-room door, “Hey Jessica, how’s it going? Anything yet? I’ve got my outfit.”

“I don’t know,” came her voice from behind the door.

“Let’s see,” I said. “Show me the best of what you had.”

She opened the door and stood looking sheepishly in a skin-coloured peasant blouse and short white flounce skirt.