BAZOOKAS

I could not resist the urge to step out into the rain even though I tried to fight it. I felt like a six year old again, but instead of flip-flops and pony-tail, I wore a very expensive pair of knee-high boots, a black knee length skirt with a side slit designed to make one question, is she really a good girl?

For top, I wore a white shirt tucked neatly inside my skirt waist. I paid 150 dollars for the curled hairdo—a complete waste of money if you ask me. I will not do that again.

I was in the city for a business meeting. Two blocks away from my appointment, I found public parking and reluctantly paid the thirty-dollar charge for a day when I would be less than an hour. Fucking ridiculous.

The parking attendant was a shave head hunk who looks quite yummy in dirty overalls. I find myself attracted to him in a dirty animalistic way. I imagined his dirty hands in my curled hair dragging me off somewhere. Is he a good fuck? I wondered.

He stares at me too long for it not to be considered gawking and flashes me a lustful grin while he takes my money. It seems I was not the only one having carnal thoughts.

“Did you bring your umbrella?” he asked. It’s going to storm,”

“I did not,” I said.

“It would be a shame to mess up those curls and ruin your pretty outfit,”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. I like the rain,”

When I got done with my meeting and took the elevator downstairs it was pouring. All around me people are shying away from the rain.

I stare at the rain coming down and got excited. I did not see a dreary dull day. I see fun. Childhood memories comes back to me--I would give anything to be a kid again. I want to step in dirty puddles. I want the sting of raindrops on my skin. I want to get wet.

But what about my expensive shoes? What about my curly hair? I wondered.

I step out in the rain, and what a feeling! If I were not in the city I would take off my shoes and skip. I would catch water on my tongue. I would take off my clothes.

I walk two blocks in the rain. Men honk and waves at me. Some wind down their windows and stare. My perfect curls now falls limp and dripping wet. My clothing clings to my body. I didn't understand all the attention.

I got back to my car and hands the dirty hunk the wet ticket. He gawks at me.

“I told you needed an umbrella,” he said.

“I didn't. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” I said.

He continues to gawk.

“How do you manage to look so beautiful dripping wet? he asked.

I think about my appearance for the first time since stepping out in the rain. Beauty did not come to mind. I’m sure I look a mess.

“I don’t know, but thank you,” I said.

I walk away.

“Miss,” he calls after me. I look back. He is smiling. “Do you know that your bazookas are showing?”

I look down and understand why men were honking their horns and waving at me and why they slowed their cars and wind down their windows…In my childish dance in the rain, my simple white shirt has become transparent. It hugs my bra-less bazookas seductiively. The imprint of my areolas completely visible, my hard nipples strain against the thin cloth as if begging for touch. There... for all the city to see.

LOL. Scandalous. I love it.

Comments

[Kat]

That is just awesome!
Glad you had fun in the rain. I think maybe I need to try that, again.