Friday, October 21, 2005


Yesterday evening, I found myself with a bit of spare time and some freedom. On an impulse, I decided that this would be the time to buy the damn swimsuit already.

I had just eaten dinner with my fiancee. She was off to do some homework, and I had an appointment an hour later. The moment we parted ways, I knew that I had a golden opportunity to execute my plan.

I had already scouted the wares of a sporting goods store near my home. I had images of a black and red racing swimsuit, and I was excited about it. I had a twenty minute drive, and lots of time to ponder my coming adventure. I twitched with nervousness. My stomach bubbled and churned. All the same, I was determined to fulfill my twisted little fantasy.

I strode purposefully, my legs shaking, through the mall and into the store. As I walked in, a hot, shapely young store clerk walked in front of me, crouched down, and folded some clothes, exposing the upper part of her butt crack. I wandered around the men's clothing section, pretending to be interested in a shirt. I considered leaving, but I took a closer look at the women's swimwear section, and boldly headed in that direction. I slowly walked past it and into another display of discount men's t-shirts, no more than ten feet away from what I was really interested in.

The store was virtually empty. There were a couple of teenagers looking at baseball equipment, but quite far from my position. I snuck furtive glances at the object of my desire. Slowly, I made my way towards them, pretending that I wasn't interested. Finally, I dropped my pretenses, and started pawing at the swimsuits.

At first, I felt like an idiot standing there, fondling women's swimwear. But nobody was near, and I decided that I didn't care anymore. I took my time. I had no idea which size to take. I inspected a fiery red one, but rejected it for fear of drawing too much attention. The black and red I thought I had seen did not exist. There was a red and navy, but I didn't care for it. I needed black, primarily, and there were plenty of those. Finally, I settled on a black Speedo, size 6, fearing that it would be a bit too large. I folded it in my hand, trying to cover up my shameful purpose, and made my way to the cashier's counter.

I asked the girl at the counter a question about their return policy. It was the perfect cover. She gave no indication of finding it strange. I paid for it and walked out, less nervous but sick with anticipation.

I had little time to examine my purchase, much less try it on. I stuffed the shopping bag into the bag I was taking to my appointment, for fear that my finacee would find it if I left it behind. I anticipated that I would have time to play when I returned, imagining that my fiancee would not be coming over.

When I arrived, I shook with eagerness. Still, I had to resist. I had no idea whether or not she was coming. I started developing my fantasy. An hour into it, she suddenly walked through the door. I was shocked, and thanked my stars that I hadn't exposed my secret. Moments later, I fucked her in the bedroom, and we went to sleep. I had trouble keeping it up, because I was so much more interested in my secret stash.

All day today, I dreamed about the tiny amount of time I could have with my precious swimsuit. I was feeling somewhat disappointed that it wasn't the black and red I had originally imagined. I felt ridiculous for risking my relationship with my fiancee for a piece of clothing, a sex toy. Still, I couldn't help but reminisce on all the lovely things I had worn in the past, and how often. I looked forward to trying it on.

I had dinner with my fiancee again, but it was very difficult to free myself of her. When I finally succeeded, I rushed home, aching to complete my adventure. I tried it practically the moment I walked through the door. It was incredibly tight, especially around the waist. Somehow I managed to squeeze into it. I luxuriated in it for a few moments before struggling out of it again, afraid of being caught. I would have to be careful. I hid it in a secret place, and started writing this.

Unfortunately, I'm not very horny right now. I don't know why. Now that I have my swimsuit, I'm not particularly keen on it. I want another one.

I would love nothing more at this moment to repeat the exhilaration I felt browsing for women's bathing suits. I want to take more time, try a few on, find the right colour. It was fantastically exciting to do something so plainly perverted. I would rather have a slightly larger swimsuit.

Really, I just want more. I'll wear it again when I have some time to really concentrate on it. It should be fairly soon. Or maybe I'll play with some panties, or the bikini, which I have had access to all along, and come to it later. The beauty of it is that I have my own swimsuit now, and I can wear it whenever it's convenient.

Maybe I'll buy more, just for the thrill of it.

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