July 29th, 2010 | 
Author: Stopping the World
He was shopping in a department store. He'd been there for two hours and he was bored and drowsy. He was in the hardware department, looking for some obscure sprinkler attachment. He wanted to get out of there, go home, and kick back. Suddenly there was an intense flash in his peripheral vision of a pretty women disappearing down an aisle. He followed her greedily.
She was a teenager. She was showing off her sun-tanned legs by wearing short shorts. She walked gracefully like a cat. Her flawless bronze skin flowed over curves and muscles. She wore sandals on her small feet, with long decorative laces that criss-crossed up around her ankles and calves like bondage straps, and were finally tied with an elaborate bow just below the knee. Her toenails were painted carefully. The tops of her feet were just as dark brown and smooth as her legs, but the bottoms were cream- colored and crinkly. He stared hungrily at her high-arched insteps; the border where the color and texture changed. For some reason those dainty two-tone feet of hers fascinated him like nothing else.
She wore a halter top, which could barely halt her. Her saucy midriff was exposed for everyone to see and her navel was cute. Her shorts were tight enough to reveal the V-shape where her flat tummy tucked up between her legs. She had straight sun-bleached hair that rested gently on her back and also fell forward onto her chest. She would often fling it over her shoulder to get it out of her eyes, or would nervously twist a strand with one hand.
When she would stop to look at something, she would place one foot pointing forward and place the other far away and at right angles, pointing to the side, then she would shift her weight back and forth as though she were fidgeting. She did this absentmindedly. It came naturally to her and girls like her. She did not realize that it was sexy: that he could enjoy a frontal view of one leg while admiring the other at profile, and that with her legs thus widely separated, he could spy the creamy insides of her thighs. At other times she would stand with her feet close together under her, then randomly roll one or both of her ankles out so the weight was borne by the outside edge of the foot. Had she known it, each time she did this, her smooth knees parted and the light-colored wrinkly soles of her feet could be seen.
Her face was not cute like a child; actually she had done her face up in a sassy way. It was quite bold of this young woman to wear such a haughty expression. She was shopping with her mother. The two did not seem to be getting along. Her mother was dressed conservatively and looked uptight. The girl looked impatient, as though she longed to get back in the company of her peers.
The girl somehow sensed that she was being ogled. She whirled around and caught him staring at her. Then she gave him a sharp cold look, tossed her
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