Fitting Roo[m] [F]un - a Craigslist Casual Encounter | 2016

I’ve perused Craigslist Casual Encounters for longer than I care to admit. And I’d never admit it. My boldness and desire for some kind of excitement had been growing for a bit, as I allude to in my other stories. I’m also fascinated by how people approach using the site for these purposes, too. The self-deprecation (“I must be a loser - har har - I’m posting on CL!”), the jaded outlook (“NO BOTS OR SCAMMERS OR PROS!”), the poorly thought out dick pics, using “just got out of prison” anywhere in the ad...sigh.

Anyways, I discovered that I enjoy showing off a little bit online… various GW subs, etc., fairly recently. I won’t get into it too much, but I have needs that weren’t being met and I didn’t know it. So the Casual Encounter listing seeking someone to show-off and tease piqued my interest. Says he’s not assuming or seeking sex. Good, I think to myself, because that’s not what I’m looking for either.

I send him a message, giving him examples of how I’ve been showing off as of late, and tell him that this is something I recently discovered. He’s intrigued by what I’ve posted to /r/gonewild. I learn that he had a friend that would do this with him previously, and I ask what that was like. He explains that he would go to her house, and she would basically strip and get herself off and he would watch and do the same. Sometimes things became a little more hands on. We talked about where and when we could meet up. He said we couldn’t meet at his place because of renovations [or married, whatever], so he said maybe we could meet at a hotel. We talked about what kinds of things we might be comfortable doing, and I didn’t want to set unrealistic expectations and disappoint… But that also made him question whether it’d be “worth it” to get a hotel room to meet up. So I suggested something different. A trial run, perhaps. I still wasn’t convinced he was sane and non-murderous, anyways. I told him I wanted things to be as anonymous as possible. I didn’t even want him to know what kind of car I drive. He was fine with that, as I expected.

I proposed that we meet at a store and pick out some things for me to try on - he wanted a striptease, after all. Maybe some swimsuits. We could pretend we were planning a spring break trip and I needed a new bathing suit. Then we’d go into a fitting room and he could “help me out.” We agreed to meet on his lunch break one day, and then found a store which would have appropriate fitting rooms that was near his workplace. It was set. I’d be in the lingerie department, shopping, and he’d come up to me like we were expecting each other. I figured there were more pros than cons to the setup. It’s public, so he can’t do anything too crazy.

I talked to an online friend about what was going to happen, and he gave me some ideas. “Make him wait outside of the fitting room until you have gotten everything settled, take your jacket off, etc. Make it your space. Tell him he can’t touch you. And bend over close, let him smell you and feel you breathe on his face. Bend over so your tits are in his face - but remember, he can’t touch you.” My online friend was admittedly a bit jealous of this random Craigslist guy.

Neither of us sent face pics. He asked what I’d wear so he could identify me. I told my online friend and he said, “I’m pretty sure he’ll recognize your body from the pix you sent.” I teasingly responded to my fitting room friend that “you’ll notice me ;)” I could’ve sent a face pic but I wanted plausible deniability if I chickened out.

I’m 5’1 / 100lbs / brunette. I painted my toes neon pink and picked out an outfit the night before.

“Are we still on?,” he texted me the morning of our meeting. He also questioned whether I’d chicken out, I guess. Or maybe he was just as anxious as I was. I texted him back a hurried “yes” and got in the car.

Driving along, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. What if my husband finds out? I was nervous. What if we got caught? Kicked out of the store? Arrested? How would I explain my new lifetime ban at all of the stores in this chain? Or what if the guy was a total dud and I can’t get into it? I belted along to music on the radio and felt my nerves ease. It’s not a big deal, we’re not going to do anything. And I can always just pretend I’m just shopping and act confused when he tries to engage me. I patted myself on the back for suggesting something so public, since he could be a total weirdo.

Well, this is it. I pulled into the parking lot and parked my car. What’s the worst that can happen, I asked myself? Adrenaline? Nerves? I took a deep breath and got out of my car, walking confidently to the store’s entrance. Upon entering, I was reassured by the familiar layout of the store. I continued on confidently to the lingerie section, but slowed occasionally to pretend I was actually shopping. I had no intention of buying anything that day. My heart raced as I approached the lingerie department, my eyes scanning the racks of bras and panties and slips and pajamas. There were a couple of older middle-aged women browsing the racks, and he couldn’t have mistaken them for me. I found the colorful panties and bras I had looked at online the night before, and began browsing the sizes. And then he found me. He’s white, 5’11 or so, in decent shape, blue eyes, lighter hair, clean cut, wearing a dark short sleeved collared shirt and dark pants. I make brief eye contact.

“Hi... “ “How are you?” I could detect nervousness… was it a bit too high? Breathy? Shaky? Whatever it was, he was really bad at hiding how nervous and/or excited he was.

“Good… just looking for some things…” “Oh, are you looking for anything special?” “Well, they don’t usually have my size…” “Well maybe I can help you find some things.”

I wasn’t lying, either. None of these bras were going to fit me correctly. I’d been ruined by a trip to a nice department store that actually stocked my size. He sort of hovered, and I fumbled through the cheap plastic bra and panty hangers. I wasn’t looking very hard, more trying to get a feel for him and how far this would go.

I continued rifling through the bra selections, meandering from rack to rack. I was becoming more confident that this was something I could have fun with, and noticed a bra on the floor. He was next to me but a couple feet away. I turned away from him and bent over at the waist to pick up the bra on the floor. I swear I heard him sharply inhale. I lingered, knowing he was looking. I’d worn my skinny jeans, which accentuate my best, ahem, asset (or so I’m told). He wanted a tease, right? “Ugh, people are so lazy. Dropping bras and not picking up after themselves,” as I re-hung the bra on the rack. “Uh yeah, really,” he replied.

I continue this meandering part-shopping, mostly-teasing expedition through the store’s entire lingerie and pajama department (complete with his joking about one of the big muu-muu nightgowns on my petite figure). It had to be at least ten minutes before finally going back to the original colorful bras and panties and grabbing a few sizes that would be close enough to my own. I grabbed some lacy g-strings for good measure. “Ok, let’s try some things on,” I told him. I rushed to the entrance of the changing rooms, seeing there wasn’t anyone around and wanting to take advantage of it. He lagged behind long enough that I wondered if he got lost. I truly am terrible at playing it cool. I’m sure that if someone in loss prevention was watching the cameras they’d have known I was up to something.

He makes his way to the fitting rooms. Forgetting everything that my friend advised before (make him wait outside until you’ve gotten yourself settled, etc), I led him to one of the two. I close the full length door (can’t see any feet from outside). My shopping self unloads the underwear on the only place to sit (a stool or bench kind of thing), then I realize “uh oh yeah, he should be sitting here” and pick up the mess of straps and cheap plastic hangers and fumble them onto a couple of the hooks mounted on the side of the stall.

My purse’s strap rests on one shoulder, across my body, so I take it off. Then I remove my coat. I’m wearing a black cardigan sweater, buttoned up all the way. Maximize the clothing and the time it takes to remove, right (again, advice from my friend)?

I had imagined this slow, sexy strip in my mind. But I get caught up in the moment and find myself racing to remove my sweater. I was a bit warm… wearing my coat and this sweater. Under the sweater I’m wearing a black skin-tight strappy camisole. The straps from the black bra underneath have nowhere to hide.

I pull the tank top over my head, revealing reveal the simple black bra I’m wearing. It fits very well. My boobs aren’t big by anyone’s definition; they’re proportional to my petite frame. I start playing with the straps, pushing one down over my shoulder to hang. I remember my friend’s advice, and move closer to him. I bend over, my fingers tracing the outline of my bra strap and bra, my face next to his. “Make him feel your breath” the friend had advised, so I pulled my face closer to his, hoping he could feel my breath on his ear as my hands grazed my bra and chest and shoulders and clavicle. I could hear his breathing increasing. He turned his face and kissed my lips, hard. We were both so obviously turned on it was bound to happen. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, and his hands grabbed my ass as I stood bending over slightly. My hands touched his face, surprised by how soft his short, well-groomed beard was. My hand found his hard cock through his pants. His hands found my boobs and I unhooked my bra. He explored them with his hands first and then his mouth, as I sat on his lap running my fingers through his hair.

His mouth returned to mine and we continued kissing, his tongue again poking into my mouth. It was not my favorite technique, and I pulled my mouth away to use my lips elsewhere.. His face, his neck, his ears. At some point I started grinding on his leg, not able to hold back how badly I wanted more. Because of how we were both sitting and where his cock was, I wasn’t able to grind on it, so I used my hand to tease it through his pants again for a bit. Then I let both of my hands wander… his posting indicated he was in good shape, and my fingers found what seemed to be a six pack under his shirt and undershirt. I was impressed.

The quiet was interrupted by a loud woman talking... shit. We both looked at each other with wide eyes, like we were caught or something. We couldn’t tell if she was just outside the fitting room area or actually in the area.

I hopped off him, and muttered something about “yeah, I suppose I should try this one” and fumbled with one of the colorful lacy bras, removing it from the flimsy hanger and putting it on. “See how the band is too loose?” I bent over so he could see the gaps between my skin and the fabric. “So frustrating,” I told him. Yup, we’re totally just trying on lingerie in here, I wanted to announce to anyone within earshot. He mumbled some sort of responses, and I was thankful I wouldn’t have sounded like I was just talking to myself. We smirked at each other, thinking we were being so sneaky.

It sounded like we were in the clear again. I took my shoes off and then my skinny jeans. Under the jeans, I wore black stretchy boyshort/booty short type panties. The kind that ride just up the butt. I made sure he got a good look at how great I looked in them, and went back to his lap to pick up where we left off. This time his hand started rubbing over the panties, probably able to feel the wet spot that had been forming. I was so turned on, and his hand felt so good. I wanted more, so my hand led his hand into the front of my tight, stretchy panties. He rubbed my pussy for a little bit, though not quite finding my clit, which I was desperate for him to do. I tried to guide his finger there, and he kept rubbing. He missed the spot, but his finger found its way to part my lips. I’m sure he was pleased to find how wet I was… but we were quiet. We continued kissing, though my sitting on his lap slowly became me lying back while he fucked me with his fingers, and holding me up with his other arm. I tried desperately not to make a sound, which can be hard because I like to make sure my partner knows how much I’m enjoying it when I’m enjoying it. But I found my way to his ear a few times to moan quietly.

He was fucking my soaked pussy with his fingers when I decided to be sexy and whisper in his ear, “how badly do you wish that was your cock?” But I was apparently too quiet, so I had to repeat myself. Like a punchline that requires an explanation, it’s just not the same. But I repeated myself anyways. He groaned back, “you have no idea.” I reached to his pants, and unbuttoned and unzipped them. Suddenly we heard noise in the space, and both jumped. Forced to recall that we were in a store and he was on his lunch break, we realized he had to get back to work.

I put my clothes back on, seeing my flushed face in the mirror, not only flushed from the horniness, but a bit irritated from his beard. I smirked to myself, trying to make my hair look acceptable to the outside world and convincing myself that the flush would be gone shortly. We left the lingerie at the folding and re-hanging station, and headed for the store exit. I stayed behind to further continue the charade of “just shopping” and let the adrenaline and whatever other hormones were coursing through me to dissipate or who knows what.