1. Intimate Apparel

    Date: 5/16/2018, Categories: Voyeur / Exhibitionism, Author: SilverFoxProwler, Source: LushStories

    I’d been looking forward to picking up some new lingerie that Saturday, but never expected it to be so much fun! Ordinarily, I would shop at Les Intimes , but I’d kind of blown my budget the weekend before out in the Hamptons, so I decided to slum it at Bloomingdales on 59th. They have a great selection, and best of all, they leave you alone. I prefer shopping for thongs and panties without having someone looking over my shoulder. They also have great changing rooms, with plenty of hooks, a full-length mirror, a nice, spacious bench, and doors that lock, even if they are paper thin and open at the bottom. In truth, it kind of excites me, the vague fear of a voyeur watching me, and I admit to having taken care of my business in there on one occasion, with breathtaking results. That particular changing room straddles the women’s and men’s departments, and the sound of the man in the next room unzipping his trousers evoked a response I did not expect. As I stood in front of the mirror, watching my hands caress my body, I could hear the man’s breathing as he climbed out of his pants, and imagined him doing the same thing. That Saturday, the store was unusually quiet at the early opening hour of 10:00 am, and I had the lingerie department pretty much to myself. There wasn’t even a store clerk to be found. I strolled the racks, picked out a few bras and panties I thought would look nice, and carried them toward the changing rooms. As I approached, a man about my age exited, ... carrying a few pairs of short shorts in various pastels. He had a deep tan, dark hair, and a bod I couldn’t miss. He said “hello” with a kind smile and moved on. “Hi,” I replied, surprised that my breath caught in my throat. I watched him from behind, admiring his very tight buns in a pair of Levis. I did not expect to feel the reaction of the rest of my body as I crept toward the dressing rooms. All four of the rooms were empty, so I entered the last, and noticed an article of clothing had been left behind by a prior occupant. A pair of teal shorts. Had I hijacked that man’s dressing room? Should I choose another? I probably should have, but I felt a surge of excitement as I envisioned him climbing out of his jeans and into those shorts. I was wet before I got out of my thin cotton shift. Just as I had stepped out of my dress, I heard footsteps, and a light knock on my door, which emptied my lungs and made my heart stop. Then a warm, soft voice followed. “I’m so sorry,” the voice said. “I left a pair of shorts in there. Could you slip them under the door?” My heart beat like a hummingbird’s. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” I said. But instead of handing the shorts under the door, I held my dress up to my shoulders, cracked the door open, and held his shorts up by the hanger. God, what a handsome man he was. His soft eyes met mine, dropped to see my hand holding the dress up then up over my shoulder, flashing intrigue. I glanced over my shoulder to discover what it was. Through the wall mirror, ...