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Review This Story || Author: C. Maxwell

Skirt Day

Chapter 14 Permission

    Chapter 14: Permission

Lisa has a bad feeling about Friday.  Her feelings on Cheryl are
mixed.  Cheryl seems so nice, but she worries that Cheryl is going
to make her humiliation worse and worse.  She wishes she had never
told Cheryl about her skirt day promise.

And yet, Lisa finds herself checking her email, hoping that Cheryl
will send her a message.  She rubs her bare thighs, feeling the
soft flesh close to her red panties.  The thought of what Cheryl
has in mind on Friday makes her nervous, but then she thinks about
meeting the directors of her corporation in a skirt, knowing that
she has to obey.   Her pussy moistens and beckons her to touch
herself.  She looks over her shoulder to make sure no one can see
her and starts to touch the red silk of her panties.  The material
is so soft, and the combined feeling of the soft silk and her own
wetness against her lips sends warm waves of pleasure through the
rest of her body.  She rubs the silk top behind her blouse,
feeling her nipples.  They are very sensitive, and she pinches
them through the silk.

Usually, this time of the month she masturbates at least twice a
day.  Ever since she started taking her birth control pill, in
college, her hormones have driven her mad at this part of her
cycle.  But now, she has promised not to pleasure herself without
permission.  She remembers that Cheryl said she would give
permission!  She looks up Cheryl's number and calls her.

"Cheryl here."

"Cheryl, it's Lisa.  You told me earlier, in the bathroom, that if
I did what you said you would give me permission to . . . you
know."

"I really love it how you ask.  So shy.  Remember when you asked
last night?"

"Last night?  No, I don't really remember.  I asked last night?"

"Oh, you were so drunk last night.  Joe and Joe were having a
great time.  You don't remember sitting between them at the
table?"

"Oh, I'm starting to remember."  Cheryl's words made Lisa recall
the scene.  They were in a booth in the restaurant.  Lisa was in
the middle, and Joe was sitting to her left.  His larger friend,
also named Joe, sat to her right.  And Joe the larger had started
feeling her bare leg.  Lisa could barely complete a sentence at
that point in the evening.  But Joe's hand was warm and she
remembers thinking that it would feel good on her bare pussy.  So
she opened her legs a little for him, but this bumped Joe, the
smaller, in the knee.  When he saw what was going on, he put his
own hand on her leg.

This hardly seemed real to Lisa now.  She had just met these two
men; they had bought her several drinks at the bar, and then all
that wine with dinner, and now their hands were on her bare
thighs.  She thinks she would have crossed her legs and clamped
them shut, but she knows she didn't.  No.  She opened them, just a
little.

Big Joe's hand was about midway up her thigh, and little Joe's
hand was only inside her knee.  But little Joe slid his hand
upwards until he collided with big Joe's hand, which caused Big
Joe to slide his hand higher.   Lisa looked at Cheryl, who sat
opposite her, in a chair on the other side of the booth.  Cheryl
had a knowing smile on her face.

"So," Lisa had said, trying to break the silence, "What kind of
work are you two boys into?"

The larger one said, "I sell computer equipment."  He slid his
hand to the hem of Lisa's skirt, mere inches from her naked pussy.
"Joe is a high school teacher."

"Really?" said Lisa, turning to the smaller Joe, but the feel of
big Joe's hand against her upper thigh was driving her crazy.  She
wanted to feel his hand on her pussy.  She knew it would be enough
to make her come, and with the alcohol, she didn't care who saw.
She needed to feel it, and knew she would.

"Lisa, are you still there?" says Cheryl, over the phone.  Lisa
had been silent as she tried to remember what had happened the
previous evening.  Her memory again starts to fade.

"Yeah, I'm still here.  I'm still having trouble remembering what
happened last night.  Did Joe, you know, the bigger one, did he .
. . touch me in that restaurant?"

"You really don't remember, do you?  You were pretty wasted.
Don't worry.  I thought you'd regret having an orgasm in so public
a place, so I made him stop."

"You did?"

"Oh, he was touching you alright!  It was pretty obvious.  You
probably weren't aware of how much you were moaning and writhing
around.  The couple at the next table were having a ball watching
you.  They knew what was happening too!"

Lisa felt her entire body blush.  The thought of all those people
watching her being fondled in a public restaurant . . .

"But you made him stop?"

"That's right.  You were about to come, and I told him to cut it
out or he'd regret it.  He got pretty nervous.  You don't remember
any of this?"

"Only a little.  I . . . I remember him touching me.  His hand was
warm and, well, he knew what he was doing.  I was so wet, and his
fingers had found my . . . oh my god, Cheryl, we should /not/ be
talking about this in the office."

"Relax, no one can hear.   Yeah, he was pretty nervous when I made
him stop.  But then you were just adorable.  You looked at me with
little puppy dog eyes and mouthed the word 'please.'  You looked
so desperate!"

"I didn't!" exclaims Lisa.

"Oh, you definitely did.  I could see you squirm when Joe's hands
- and the other Joe's hands -- returned to the table.  Big Joe had
to clean off his fingers with his napkin!  It was a riot!"

Lisa wants to hide, she feels so ashamed.  And yet, she can feel
that she is very, very wet.

"Cheryl, can I do it now?"

"Not just yet, Lisa.  You probably have lots of work to do, and
besides, you don't want to get caught pleasuring yourself in the
middle of the work day!  I'll tell you what, though.  Around 6pm,
get yourself an early dinner somewhere nearby, and come back to
the office.  I have something I want to show you after everyone
has left.  And then, you can have permission."

The rest of Lisa's day passed in horny frustration and
anticipation.  She knew Cheryl had something planned - something
exposing and humiliating and horrible - but nonetheless she found
she could think of little else, and could hardly wait for whatever
it was.



Review This Story || Author: C. Maxwell
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