An Exhibitionist Hot Wife Veena Ch. 01

Ready for my adventure, I took my car and went to a busy marketplace in town. I wanted some stationery items for my work, and there is one shop that I usually buy at. The shopkeeper is a 51-year-old man, shorter than me, and always looked at me hungrily, even when I was draped in a saree. I thought – why not start there. So, I parked my car a kilometre away from the shop. I’d go walking from there. Before getting out of the car, I looked in the mirror and adjusted my top, making myself ‘presentable’. One could see the outline of my Mangal sutra (a necklace worn by married women of India) inside my t-shirt. I took my purse, stepped out of the car and started walking towards the shop.

As soon as I got out of the car, I observed that I did turn a few heads, first to my face and then my big tits. I loved it. It was quite a busy street. A lot of people brushed past me, coping a feel of my breasts as they passed by. I could feel my nipples become harder by the second.

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When I reached the shop, the shopkeeper recognized me immediately. Before, he only saw me in sarees (an Indian traditional dress for women). But today, that changed. He saw me in western clothing for the first time. That too in a top that is made to show off a good part of my tits. I could see that he liked it. He first scanned my face, smiled, then lowered his gaze to my chest. His smile turned into a wide grin.

The shop had no customers except me. Although the street behind was not empty. He was on the other side of the wooden counter.

“Hello, madam, it’s been a while since we last had you at our shop.”

There was also his assistant, probably aged 19, in the shop. He quickly turned to him and said, “Kiddo, get a coke for madam here.” I declined, but the shopkeeper insisted. The kid took off in a flash.

“Tell me, madam, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“I would like to buy some pencils, Hb and darker.”

He turned around, took a few steps, searched for the pencils on one of the shelves and found them. He looked about 50 years old, at least 4 inches shorter than me, bald, a slight paunch on his stomach. He wasn’t attractive at all. But something pulled me towards him; maybe it’s his attitude and confidence whenever he talked to me.

“Your beauty grows every other time I see you here. Not to mention those full lips of yours, ever so gorgeous.”

He started flirting right away, that old bugger. He is not a ‘taking time’ kind of a guy, I guess. ‘But two people are going to play this game this evening, old man’, I thought. I parted my lips slightly and smiled. When he turned back towards me, he was surprised. It was probably the first time I ever smiled at him.

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