Short Skirt of Veronica Draws Attention
"Is it really permissible to sport a skirt this brief in public spaces?"
"It's practically a length that would just cover a woman's panties, and the fabric is so flimsy that if she opted to wear thongs with it, it would create a noticeable outline for the lads to see. But I recall vividly wearing this impossibly short skirt throughout my twenties. Each man in town would ask me out, including jobless men, yet it was over twenty years ago," thought Veronica as she organized her cluttered wardrobe. Currently in her early forties, Veronica possesses a figure that has the ability to captivate any lad in the town. However, as she matured, her attire evolved into something more conservative - a natural occurrence, as her skirts became shorter and shorter.
"I may still fit in it, given my recent health issues since I've shed approximately 15 kilograms. What a joke! Recalling, I would always have to pull down the hemline of this skirt in certain locations. Yet, it never seemed to be an issue in pubs, the Westminster region, or on holidays in Cardiff. That saucy hemline always had a pesky tendency of creeping up on me.
"Goodness, what a saucy skirt!
"I owned another one, similarly short yet with a less lightweight material and a more subdued color. I'd pair it with opaque tights, complementing it with a glossy pair to draw the attention of those barristers. I remember deliberately adorning the thinner fabric skirt, the sexy one, with thong undergarments and glossy stockings to garner the endless attention of barristers. Alongside that, my collection would feature the gleaming top I often wore with it, as well as the towering heels."
At forty-two, Veronica's legs are still forever charming. Slender, long, and highly provocative - a statement no one can contradict. The striking combination of her face, epitomized by her shoulder-length curly dark tresses, make Veronica an enchanting beauty - or at least for a woman of her age. Progressively moving towards maturity, Veronica made the appropriate adjustments to her sartorial selections.
Amused, she discarded the impossibly short skirt, the glistening top, and the skyscraper heels on the bed. Before long, these items would occupy a bag and subsequently be disposed of.
Usually following dinner, Veronica relishes a small serving of quinoa salad with a cucumber dressing. Subsequently, she enjoys a soothing bath, to reestablish a connection with reality. This routine is typically followed by a couple of hours of reading.
Perched on her coffee table is an upmarket art publication, as well as a toughback reprint of Henry James' Portrait of a Lady. "Perhaps I'll read about an Amazonian rainforest," pondered Veronica, before reaching for apparel situated high in the closet with the help of a step ladder. "It's unbelievable how brief that skirt was when I was in my early twenties," continued Veronica in astonishment. "Wearing a skirt like this in public during daytime hours would be rather rash, but as they say, life is a series of chapters."
Suddenly, the step ladder's support wilted, dragging Veronica into a crumpled state on the closet floor. Eventually regaining consciousness, she shambled towards the bed, contemplating paying visits to the grocery store, a coffee shop, and a street dotted with posh pubs, where she might captivate the attention of a barrister or two.
Sliding into the driver's seat, she switched the radio to a pop station, and barreled down the street, emphasizing, "Ugh, these shoes cause excruciating discomfort and create driving challenges!" Unfazed, Veronica hurried towards Tesco, but became aware of the fuel gauge, so she veered toward a petrol station. Her worst fears were realized due to an explosion.
Despite the situation, a gust of wind grabbed hold of the flimsy skirt's fabric, but Veronica pretended she didn't acknowledge it. Quick to lend assistance, a young man approached the vehicle and confirmed his eagerness to change the flat tyre.
To express her gratitude, Veronica exuberantly wrapped her arms around his neck and bestowed a kiss on his cheek. "I admire ladies your age," he blurted, then Kindly extending his phone number, he smartly suggested, "There's a pub close by where we can both sit comfortably without causing a commotion." Veronica believed him to be an unintelligent person, but considering her awkward predicament, she willingly accepted his phone number. "Here you go, perhaps it will be less cumbersome if I give you this on a slip of paper."
"Chances," Veronica contemplated to herself, "what reason could there be for me to go to Chances?" There was no time for hesitation, another embrace and a kiss - and she dashed to the gas station, the music from her radio still deafening. Her skirt waged a war against her once more. "This outfit barely allows room for seatbelts, much less climbing in and out of a car," she chuckled, "but a nice derrière attracts tyre change assistance."
Untroubled by a flat tire or a bewildering knot on her head, Veronica retained her radiant smile the entire time. When she heard a tune with a captivating melody, Veronica increased the volume even louder. "Why don't I know the lyrics? And why had I not worn the silky stockings that intentionally come with this stylish outfit?"
Tesco offers stockings like this - she planned to buy them while purchasing frozen products.
"Just pop in any time," the gas station attendant stated as Veronica drove away, "but be aware of the police." His comment prompted a chuckle from Veronica, but to prevent any potential citations, she decided to expose her legs yet again, parking her car without fear of being issued a ticket for having a flat tyre.
Shopping at Tesco was a swift experience, though her feet ached tremendously from all the standing and walking. Pushing through the queue and then back to the parking lot, Veronica was generously helped by a muscled guy who dropped his feather duster twice. "Just how uncoordinated can a man be?" she contemplated, "yet he was efficient, depositing the bags in the back of my car for me."
Driving away, Veronica detected her car wasn't equipped with frozen food storage. She couldn't continue visiting coffee houses or meandering past upper-class pubs. "Those law-studying gentlemen will have to wait," she chortled. Driving down the street, she passed Chances.
"Chances - eeee gad! The audacity of frumpy middle-aged women vying for young guys my age. Why would one visit a drab place like that?"
Upon arriving home, Veronica casually discarded her clothing on her bed, slipping into a bath. "My day was so much fun, filled with excitement." Contentedly reclining in the tub, her thoughts began to focus and a peculiar insight struck her. Flat tire, gas station, shopping at Tesco.
Had the entire day been a dream?
Veronica's clothing lay discarded on the bed - the high heels, the shimmery top, the sultry skirt. In her purse, she uncovered two crumpled bits of paper containing phone numbers of boys- one offering a rendezvous later that night at Chances.
"Did I genuinely leave the house dressed like this and during daylight hours, at my age?" she pondered. Embracing the thought of consuming her quinoa salad before delving any deeper into her questionable conduct, Veronica conceded.
A grin spread across her face. "I've a standing invitation for a drink at Chances tonight, with a dashing young man, and there's still another barely-there skirt that's been gathering dust for two decades."
Laughing, Veronica concluded that she had kissed a boy significantly younger than herself.
"I had such a great day; it was all so enjoyable. Why should the enjoyment end so abruptly?"
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Source: www.nice-escort.de
