If you don't buy a ticket...

If you don't buy a ticket...

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Tags

Summary

a dress, a breeze, a chance taken?

Tags

Summary

a dress, a breeze, a chance taken?

Content

Submitted: March 24, 2016

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: March 24, 2016

A A A

A A A


 If you don’t buy a ticket...

 

Friday evenings after work I’d grab a few beers in the ‘Brownzy’ or sometimes if I wasn’t too dirty, at ‘Speakers Corner’. The odd time I might have a meal there and it must be said, sometimes, if the talk was flowing and mood took me I’d forget the food and put the keys behind the bar. When the munchies cut in you could get a plate of spicy wedgies for a few dollars. But mostly I’d stick to a few pints of Speights and then head off to the local Chip Shop.

The ‘Torbay Chippie’ is as near as you can get to an old style chippie, Small, no acres of menu, Black Bean this, Chicken fried that, on the back wall. Just what counts as the basics now. The only thing you can fault Is the Country wide obsession no vinegar on chips and an even bigger obsession with red sauce…bloody kiwi’s.

In the summer heat at the end of January it even had one of those old fashioned plastic multi coloured hanging strip things in the open doorway. As is usual for Auckland it had been humid and sticky, but by 7.00pm a very brisk breeze was blowing in off the sea. Making those 1960’s style hanging strips thrash and dance about.

I came in and placed my order. It isn’t like English chip shops used to be, with a glass case full of cooked chips and another full of cooked fish etc where you could come in, queue up, order, get served and be out in 5minutes max. No you had to wait while each order was cooked ‘fresh’ for you. I could’ve phoned up but I’d been caught out before, losing track of the time, turned up 80 mins later looking for my by now, none existent order. Which I then had to pay twice for.

I gave Tony my usual order and sat to wait on one of the 5 or 6 seats that faced the counter.

A woman came in, gave her name, which I didn’t catch, obviously a phone order.

“Not long now Missus, 2 minutes.” I heard.

She stood at the counter.

I admired the back view while I waited. Not too tall, slim-ish, MILF /Cougar age. She was wearing one of those pale print patterned, billowy, half elasticated top, strapless, summer dresses with no bra...the type that just beg to be pulled down over the tits.

The Plastic Strips rattled and the dress moved in the cool breeze. The strips kept rattling and the dress kept lifting higher…but not high enough…then down.

The wind blew stronger this time, the plastic strips threshing about. The skirt rose higher.

She brought her legs and heels closer together. But made no move to pull down the fly away dress.

I thought, if this keeps up I could be on a winner here.

The wind gusted again and the back of the dress (I kid you not) hovered at waist height. Showing a bare decent-ish shaped Bottom.  

The dress was high enough I could see there was no ‘whale tail’ of a thong lost in the cheeks of her arse.

She didn’t move, no Monroe-esque trying to push it back down - Nothing. She just stood!...facing the counter, arse bare in the breeze, which was far from un-noticeable. She had to've known.

Fuck it…this all in a split second mind, I had decided… and anyway, what are Bottoms for, if not smacking?

I stood, quickly crossed the couple of feet to the counter and, just before the breeze died down, slapped a round cheek, Splat! Hard enough to leave a hand print. She jumped (as you would) and I sat down even faster than I had got up.

Slowly her head turned round to look behind her. I wore my most Innocent expression, given there was only me and her on our side of the counter. Just then Tony behind the counter, finished wrapping her order, turned and said.

“Number 38 missus.”

She paid, picked up her wrapped meal, turned and looked at me in…well I’m not sure in what sort of manner, not anger, more like surprised curiosity.

I had the impression from her face she was going to say something, a few somethings actually. For a tiny fraction of a second she appeared to hesitate both mentally and physically, then giving me an inscrutable look and walked out.

I got my meal a few minutes later and thinking about my lucky opportunistic voyeurism and spank, I walked the few yards up to the Lotto shop and bought a $20 lucky dip…I didn’t get lucky with that either.

Sometimes, even if you do take a chance and buy a ticket in the raffle of life, everyone is not a winner, nothing’s guaranteed… but I don’t let that stop me, the next ticket could be the winner. After all, If you don’t buy a ticket, you’ll never win the raffle


© Copyright 2017 E.M. Ockleshaw. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

More Great Reading

Popular Tags