Dress Off: Sasha vs Tara (Part 1) - Sex Stories

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Dress Off: Sasha vs Tara (Part 1)

Date: 8/10/2015, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: staceyshackleton, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

Sasha would be somewhere out there, suffering her first wardrobe malfunction. However, Tara also knew Sasha would have the clue by now, and the bitch had played the French government in the Model UN some years back. It would be just like her to be undeservedly lucky and remember where the consulate is based. As Tara raced down one street and then the next, she realised she was looking for a needle in a haystack. The consulate wouldn’t be that large, and her only hope was to spot the French flag down some side-street as she hastened along. Equally likely though, would be the scenario where she looked in the wrong direction at the wrong time and raced right past it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Tara slowed down to a walking pace, realising that she was now only seeing half of what she passed, and that she’d have to be a bit more methodical than this. It was at exactly that point, as she looked down yet another side-street, that she inadvertently walked into a tourist gazing forlornly at their own map. Tara went to let out a curse and berate the tourist for standing still on a busy side-walk, when she noticed that the map the tourist had was different to her own. Different, and far more detailed. Tara went from mid-frown to welcoming-smile in a split second, and looked straight into the tourist’s eyes. The tourist was male, perhaps early 30s, and – Tara noted with interest – was now staring at her in a line that would be fairer to describe as chest-height than eye-height. ... “Excuse me sir, can I help?” Tara was all sweetness and kindness, and she’d also chosen only moments before - by sheer coincidence of course – to take a big breath in, with the entirely unintended consequence of inflating her chest out even further. The tourist gulped, and hesitantly used broken english to stammer a request as to where “Hotel Cyrian” might possibly be located. Tara knew the answer already, but took the tourist’s map out of his hands and stepped closer in. Making a great pretense of looking for the hotel, she quickly scanned the map for the French consulate, and felt a surge of triumph as she spotted it just off Mercury Boulevard. She indulged the tourist with another smile, leant in far closer than would be considered decent, and gently pushed the tourist off in the direction of the hotel, a mere two blocks from here. Tara then set off again. She was at least seven blocks away, and an interminable number of pedestrian crossings to negotiate before she reached her destination. She hadn’t even reached the first of these though, before her ear-piece crackled into life. “Miss Tennyson, interesting encounter you had there, good to see you helping visitors to our fair city. I’m sure the tourism board would love to have you front their campaigns, what with you having such a welcoming and charitable demeanour.” Tara remained silent, not wanting to tempt fate by acknowledging the compliment. “Of course,” the voice continued, “I couldn’t help but notice that helping your ...