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I can barely make her out anymore and resign myself to getting wet as I exit my truck and duck across the street near the store.
The neighboring building has a verandah that shields me from the worst of the weather, but the only way I can get a decent view of her is to lean across and peer through one of her storefront windows.
The storm doesn’t seem to bother her, in fact, there’s a little smile playing on her lips as she unpacks what looks like a wedding dress that’s seen better days.
A few tears on it, and what looks like mud from where I’m standing.
Is that one of those ‘special request’ jobs? I wonder.
We’d like a torn dress covered in muck.
Nothing surprises me these days, but what does surprise me is when she looks around shyly before starting to lift up her t-shirts as she heads to a changing booth.
I feel my dick starting to pulse to life. My heart is pounding against my ribs and my throat goes dry all over again.
I couldn’t be this fucking lucky. Could I?
I shift myself out from under cover, straight into the rain so I can have a better view.
Both my hands shield my eyes as I’m pressed up against the glass.
She is.
She’s fucking undressing, right in front of me.
I can see through the gap in the curtain, like before. All of her is in full view in the floor to ceiling mirror behind her as she slips out of her jeans, leaving just her bra and panties on.
I groan loudly, cursing under my breath, debating whether it's safe to pleasure myself here on the street.
I daren’t take my eyes off her for a single second though.
Her large breasts are straining against the lace of her bra. Thick, pebbled nipples the size of saucers are proudly signaling every pleasure center in my brain.
She doesn’t look at herself in the mirror though, not yet.
It’s almost as though she’s ashamed of her perfect body, but more for me to see from this angle, and I feel myself through my pants because I just can’t help it anymore.
Grinding the tip of my cock with the palm of my hand, I study her smooth skin, the way her underwear cuts into her curves, begging to be torn from her.
A car passes on the street behind me, throwing up a spray of water but I don’t care.
The whole city could be on fire but I wouldn’t budge from this spot.
The view I’ve craved is right in front of me, and it’s more than I thought humanly possible. That someone could be so beautiful, that someone like her could even exist let alone cross my path in just one day.
Changing my whole life forever.
I watch, spellbound as she leans out from behind the curtain to grab a hold of the wedding dress she’s just unpacked.
She’s left an even bigger gap in the curtain now, and I feel my hands press flat against the glass as I watch her shimmy into the dress.
It’s a tight fit, with one of the existing tears in it letting her thick curvy hips bring the garment to life. Her full chest spills out over the top and I notice her look of displeasure as I hear my own groan of arousal echoing back to me.
She reaches for the zipper at the back, and unable to do herself up I can see her frown deepen before she turns in front of the mirror at every angle.
To see herself, but I’m the one getting the show of my life.
Unexpectedly, I watch her swish the curtain back, and she walks over to a dressmaker’s mannequin that has a jacket she’s also working on that I recognize as mine.
Once I see her holding herself to it, moving the empty sleeves so they encircle her waist.
Bringing her face to the fabric and resting her cheek against it, I about burst.
There’s no doubt in my mind now.
I’m either gonna stake my claim, tell her the truth or I’m about to get arrested.
It’s a risk I’m willing to take but something tells me Ashlee’s waiting for me in her own special way.
In three long strides, I’m at the front of the store, my hand on the huge brass handle.
I pull it, and to my complete surprise, it opens.
A moment later I’m standing inside the store, dripping wet and with a hard on that feels like it could cut a diamond.
A heavy roll of thunder and a piercing flash of brilliant lightning announcing my entrance to the bridal store.
She’s not here though, not hugging the jacket on the mannequin like she was just a moment ago.
Did I imagine the whole thing? Could I be losing it, obsessing over this beautiful curvy younger girl?
A muted groan and a frustrated sound comes from behind the curtains I spied most recently.
