KarenS
12-21-2008, 02:59 AM
What a rush. The funny things that happen are sometimes only funny after we think about them for a few minutes when the adrenaline quits pumping.
Tonight, my youngest daughter and wife are sleeping. I am wearing jeans rolled up to the knee, a blue polo, bra, forms, panties, stockings, and four inch black heals. I am at the computer and the room is dimly lit. I am reading trough the CD forums and enjoying my moment of relaxation as Karen.
My twenty year old comes through the door, I tuck my feet back under my chair. She is maybe twelve feet away on the stair landing and decides she needs to talk to me about her car acting up. I am almost shaking and hunch over a little and squeeze my elbows in to try to let my breasts get lost in the bulk of my shirt. She talks with me for about five minutes. I spill my water glass all over the desk and scramble to get Kleenex to soak it up. Water is all over the desk and spilling on to the floor.
My thoughts: “My breasts are showing through my shirt.” “I can’t let her see my profile.” “Don’t get up, she’ll see my nylons and heels.” “The water is everywhere.” “Is she coming over to the desk to help? If she does, I’m a caught a**.”
She finally finishes her questions and goes upstairs. I pull off my four inch heals and run to the kitchen to get some paper towels for the water. I’m back at the desk, mopping up the water with my heals on the floor right next to the waste basket and where the water is dripping off the desk.
My daughter comes back downstairs as I continue to mop up water. She starts talking again about her car. I’m still mopping up water. I’m sill trying to hunch over, tuck my elbows in, keep my nylon encased feet tucked under the chair, and hoping she doesn’t come closer. If she does, she will surely see my 4 inch heals lying next to the waste basket and puddle of water.
She finally leaves after another ten minutes. I wanted to laugh at myself. I don’t know if I was caught or not.
Tonight, my youngest daughter and wife are sleeping. I am wearing jeans rolled up to the knee, a blue polo, bra, forms, panties, stockings, and four inch black heals. I am at the computer and the room is dimly lit. I am reading trough the CD forums and enjoying my moment of relaxation as Karen.
My twenty year old comes through the door, I tuck my feet back under my chair. She is maybe twelve feet away on the stair landing and decides she needs to talk to me about her car acting up. I am almost shaking and hunch over a little and squeeze my elbows in to try to let my breasts get lost in the bulk of my shirt. She talks with me for about five minutes. I spill my water glass all over the desk and scramble to get Kleenex to soak it up. Water is all over the desk and spilling on to the floor.
My thoughts: “My breasts are showing through my shirt.” “I can’t let her see my profile.” “Don’t get up, she’ll see my nylons and heels.” “The water is everywhere.” “Is she coming over to the desk to help? If she does, I’m a caught a**.”
She finally finishes her questions and goes upstairs. I pull off my four inch heals and run to the kitchen to get some paper towels for the water. I’m back at the desk, mopping up the water with my heals on the floor right next to the waste basket and where the water is dripping off the desk.
My daughter comes back downstairs as I continue to mop up water. She starts talking again about her car. I’m still mopping up water. I’m sill trying to hunch over, tuck my elbows in, keep my nylon encased feet tucked under the chair, and hoping she doesn’t come closer. If she does, she will surely see my 4 inch heals lying next to the waste basket and puddle of water.
She finally leaves after another ten minutes. I wanted to laugh at myself. I don’t know if I was caught or not.