"What the Hell, Sarah!?" "You want to get thrown out of here? In Europe, they prefer their clothing optional at the beach, not the mall! I don't know when you turned into such an exhibitionist; but you need to rein it in, at LEAST in public!"
"Sorry Daddy. I think last night's events went to my head," she says apologetically, yet giggling. "I'll try to behave. Now let me show you the outfits."
She changes every few minutes, removing some almost before they settle on her body for one reason or another that she chooses not to share. She lets me get a look at the ones she deems suitable, spinning around to model them before moving on. Watching her constantly dress and disrobe, seeing her tits and pussy continually appear and disappear before my eyes, causes my cock to harden. By the time she finishes, I'm at full mast, tenting my pants, which now have a noticeable wet spot where my pre-cum secreting cockhead is pushing them out. Sara gives my constrained cock an obvious stare, making sure I know that she's noticed, and then turns away, smirking but saying nothing. She walks out of the changing room, leaving me behind to deal with my situation. After several minutes of picturing ugly old men on a nude beach, I'm able to follow her. She's waiting at the register, a single dress in her hands. All of that, for one outfit. Women!
We then stumble upon a surf-type clothing store, and Sarah pulls me away from the men's side so I can escort her through the women's half. I follow my daughter while carrying her bag; and she walks around scooping up an assortment of summer-type outfits. Eventually, we make it to the back of the store where we finally end up in front of the dressing rooms. There are no separate fitting rooms for the guys and girls, the small cubicles covered by loose, sliding curtains that end about 30" above the floor. Apparently they're more interested in preventing theft than preserving their customers' modesty. The attendant's more concerned with his texting than his customer service; and after finally realizing that we're there, he shows Sarah to the first, and most visible, fitting room. He pulls the curtain closed and moves on.
What I'm seeing makes me immediately uncomfortable. Sarah is a petite girl, only standing 5' 4", proportioned with a longer body and shorter legs, what I'd call a swimmer's body. So a curtain hanging 30" off the floor shows her legs right up to within a whisker of her pussy. I can see the crotch of her loose cotton pants easily. Looking around me, I see that my daughter's proportions have not been lost on the other guys waiting outside the changing rooms.
She turns around a couple of times before I see her pants slide to the floor, standing still for a moment before lifting her feet to pull on a pair of shorts. As she steps out, she notices the other guys quickly looking away and grinning. Stepping towards me looking like a model in her matching top and shorts, I know my credit card is in trouble when she nods at me in approval after already deciding to buy the very first thing she tries on. Stepping back in, she fails to close the curtain fully, I'm sure on purpose. Looking around, the guys' eyes are glued to the gap in her curtain.
She continues her fashion show, and makes more than one girl mad when they catch their boyfriends ogling my daughter. There's a three-way mirror standing just outside the changing rooms, and she takes her time looking at herself from every angle before moving to the next outfit. With one more shirt to try on, she steps back into her booth, failing to close the curtain at all. All of us, including one of the girls trying to get her boyfriend to move his ass and redirect his eyes away from my daughter, watch her backside as she removes her clothes, puts them back on their hangers, and then slips the last garment on over her head. Instead of putting her pants back on, she just turns inside the room, and boldly steps out wearing just the shirt and nothing else, her perfect little pussy on display. The guys all look like Christmas came early, and the girlfriend looks both pissed and jealous. Sarah then, teasingly, cocks her hip before sauntering back and closing the curtain. I looked around and the girlfriend is dragging her man away, the other couple of guys finally looking away, probably thanking God their girlfriends were still in their changing rooms. When she finally comes out, her arms are full of 'keepers', and she bats her eyes at me while she waits for an answer.
"Just get what you want," I say in a defeated voice, not even vaguely aware of what the damage might be.
I pull out my credit card and, without looking at the total, scribble my name on the receipt. Sarah hands me the overstuffed bag and I follow her back into the mall.
The next store is much like the last, except that it's strictly for women, and there's an entire wall filled with nothing but swimsuits. Sarah rushes over, pulls off a matching top and bottom, and is already in the dressing rooms before I'm able to catch up. She comes out wearing a white, barely-there translucent bikini.
"I saw this in a magazine and it's totally hot! Can I please, please, pretty please get it?"
"Are you actually gonna wear it?" I ask, alluding to the previous evening's pool attire.
"Of course I'll wear it! I'll even wear it this afternoon at the pool, I promise!"
"OK ", is what I say out loud, but "Only if no one else is around" is what I'm really thinking. I cram another charge receipt into my wallet and we continue on our way.
A few stores down, Sarah finds a Victoria's Secret, and she walks in without any kind of warning ahead of time. I keep my eyes on the floor as I follow her around, not noticing what items she's picking out before heading off to try them on. I stand there alone and uncomfortable, before being approached by one of the young, attractive clerks.
"Are you Dave?" she ask, already certain that I am. I'm the only guy in the place. "Sarah asked if you could join her in her dressing room so she can show you something. Please follow me."
I walk down the row of dressing rooms; and the clerk points out Sarah's before turning to leave. I wait until she's out of my sight to knock on the door, and she peeks out to make sure I'm alone before opening it further. She stands there in a lacey white, totally sheer bra, with matching sheer underwear. Her rock-hard nipples are completely visible through the taught fabric. The skin-tight panties are enveloped in the folds of her pussy, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. She raises her arms to lift up her long, dark hair with both hands, and then tilts her head while flashing me her brilliant smile.
"What's with the sudden modesty? You certainly didn't mind who saw you at that surfer shop."
"I don't know. This is just so sexy, I feel more exposed than when I'm naked! It really accentuates my naughty bits," she giggles. Anyway, it's a set, and it's pretty expensive; but I really don't have any nice underwear. I promise I'll do anything you want if I can get these!"
Her sparkling smile then turns into a wicked grin.
I don't know what she has in mind, but it doesn't really matter anyway. "Get two sets", I offer. "One for show and one to go is what I always say!"
She gives me a hug and kiss right there, but I can't appreciate it, wondering if anyone's watching our less than familial spectacle. I leave the dressing rooms and take my place back in the store, but I don't feel at ease until Sarah returns to join me. I'm determined not to make eye contact with the staff while we check out. As we make our way back through the mall, I'm relieved to hear Sara suggest that we cut our shopping trip short and go swim for a couple of hours while the sun's still shining over the pool. I agree, and point the way back to the taxi stand.
Walking out of the mall and towards the taxi stand, I'm startled by the sound of a revved engine and the screech of tires off to my left. Looking for the source, I watch a deep blue Mercedes S600 tearing its way up to the end of the taxi queue, slamming on the brakes, and stopping just inches short of the beater taxi mini-van in front of it. The door opens and a gorgeous Greek beauty stands up out of the car. She's got deep olive skin, tons of almost black hair, and a chest that reminds me of Jill. What's really intriguing is her outfit: short shorts, a faded Captain America T-shirt that's straining to contain her ample, obviously unrestrained breasts, and a black chauffeur's cap, which she is still trying to get seated on her head with one hand as she waves at us with the other.
"Need a ride?!" she yells, a huge smile on her face.
I stare back, confused, but grab Sarah's arm and lead her towards the odd woman, curious.
She sees my face, frowns, and then pops back into the car and pulls down the passenger side visor. As I get closer, I can see a livery license affixed to the visor.
"I take it you're for hire?" I inquire.
"Yes, Sir. And a much nicer ride than any of these others," she smirks and quickly lowers her face for a moment, apparently enjoying her own inside joke.
It is a very nice ride, so why not? I've already spent a ton on clothes for Sarah. What's the cost of a limo ride after that?
"Pop the trunk. I've got some bags to stash," I request.
