I put the garter around my stomach and moved the back part to the front to fasten it. It seemed more practical than trying to fasten it in the back. I do remember when I first got a bra I would put them on that same way, moving the back to the front, then putting it back into place. Then came the biggest challenge of this entire ensemble, which was figuring out how to attach the garter to the stockings with these black little clasp things. I was so nervous I would rip the stockings by attaching the garter clip to them. I had to push this black plastic button dangling off the bottom of the garter against the metal clasp, then that had to be slid together with such a thin small piece of stocking in between it. I tried slipping it through multiple times but I either had too much stocking bunched up to make it work or not quite enough. This was truly impractical. How did Billy manage to do this with his big, manly hands? Was there some kind of gadget on Amazon Prime that would do this for me? Should I do the front one first or the back one first? Did it matter at all?
I tried multiple times and finally got my entire left stocking all strapped together. It took at least fifteen minutes, and almost all my brain power. Passing my existential philosophy exam was easier for me than putting on a translucent sock. But I did it, and now my ass looked even nicer. It poked out even more. The garter pulling on the stocking to make it tighter gave my ass some extra oomph. Maybe I should start twerking again. Was it about that time? No, no, not yet—I had to get the right side on before I treated myself to a celebratory twerk.
Sadly, my thoughts of ass dances were suddenly interrupted.
“Is anyone here?” I heard a voice yelling. Shit. I quickly slipped my Converse sneakers back on, lacing up only the absolute necessary laces. I walked out of the bathroom in a bra, panties, and a garter only attached to one stocking on my left leg, the stocking on my right leg bunched down to my ankles. Since they were nude stockings it vaguely looked like it was my skin and not a stocking, like I had a minor case of elephantiasis. Coincidentally it happened to be the same leg I didn’t shave. The left side of my body was in pretty bad shape right now, as if I needed some kind of Phantom of the Opera mask but, for my legs.
“Hi! So sorry about that,” I said, attempting to act completely casual.
“Yeah! Nice! This is why I love this place!” He had a very flamboyant voice, and he was incredibly well dressed in a nice, striped sweater and tight blue jeans with stylish and intentional rips in the knees. His outfit was completely drenched from the rain but he didn’t seem at all upset about it. He smiled and then gave me a high five. He must have thought I was having sex in the bathroom! Unfortunately I was just trying to figure out how to put on a stocking, but I wasn’t going to tell my customer that. Let him dream.
He was holding a set of multi-colored cock-rings.
“I just need these and I’ll be out of your hair and you can get back to your fun,” he said. I smiled and rang him up, and he went back into the pouring rain outside without any umbrella, but with rings of various sizes and colors to help maintain his erection longer. I had a real respect and admiration for the customers who came in here and knew exactly what they wanted. And for anyone who ignores a flood warning for the sake of a better erection!
I didn’t see the point in going back to the bathroom. I was already out in the open in lingerie. I just had to get this stocking up and over my one hairy leg. I fussed with the metal clasp and the black silicone ball thing, trying to find just the right amount of slack to put in the middle. I adjusted the straps on the garter. I don’t know why this one was so much more difficult; I thought the second leg would be so much easier! I fastened it together but it didn’t feel secure at all. I was going to have to undo this and start over eventually, but I would see how long it lasted.
And then, I heard the door open. The store was suddenly filled with the sound of heavy rain; a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky. And there, in the metal door frame, stood Billy, dripping wet, but smiling like an idiot.
My heart skipped a beat. My vagina beat twice.
“Hey, you!” I said. I ran from behind the register and went to give him a hug. As soon as I did, though, my stubborn right stocking completely fell down. Billy did a double take and then laughed when he noticed the wardrobe malfunction happening on me.
“What’s going on? You’re wearing a lot less clothes tonight!”
“I always wear this in the rain.” I smiled and he laughed again. I could feel myself blushing. I hoped the red of my cheeks stood out against the black of my wonderful new bra.
“Do you need help over there?” He pointed to my fallen down nude thigh-high.
“Actually, I do! I tried. I’m three quarters of the way there.”
“Sit down. I’ll help you!” he said in his soothing voice. His flannel was dripping wet, creating a small pool of water at his feet.
“Lemme hang this up for you first, so it can dry!” I said. I took his shirt and hung it up in the bathroom. When I came back, Billy was in a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. A classic all-American man, who could change your oil, fix your plumbing, and fasten your garter belt to your stocking, perfectly.
I grabbed a folding chair and placed it near the register. I sat down, I stretched out my leg on top of him. He caressed my leg, he slowly made his way up to my thigh, and he snapped together my stocking and garter in a matter of milliseconds.
“Thank you,” I said. I was embarrassed. This was my lingerie section, this was my store, and he knew his way around the hardware better than me.
“Is this too fancy for me?” I asked. “Do I look like a little girl playing dress-up?”
“You look like a beautiful WOMAN dressed up!”
The red on my face became deeper.
“Come here, I’ve got something to show you!” I said, and I took his hand and pulled him over to my new and improved lingerie section. Billy’s eyes widened in astonishment.
“I upgraded from paper to plastic,” I shrugged and said, referring to my organized plastic drawers as a vast improvement over the cardboard boxes. I know one was better for the environment but I think even the environment would forgive me for this. Those cardboard boxes had to go.
“Now you can find everything way easier! And so can everyone else.” I displayed my new section like I was Vanna White, but in lingerie, and Converse sneakers.
He smiled and looked at the variety of stockings, a delicious grin spreading over his face. He opened up various drawers and he seemed unsure of what to do with all of the new-found options. He held pairs of lace panties in one hand, stockings of every color in the other, like a child clutching his birthday toys. Suddenly, I had an idea. I opened the bottom drawer with the XL and XXXL lingerie. And thanks to my Dewy Decimal System à la plastic, I easily and conveniently found the same exact bra, panties, and garter that I had on right now. I grabbed them and handed them to him.
“Put this on,” I said. The idea of us both wearing the same set of undergarments excited me. We could explore our femininity together—with his full beard and my one hairy leg, hand in hand—we could exist feeling beautiful underneath the fluorescent lighting.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yeah! Put it on! It will be fun. I think these colors would look nice on you.” The material was a bit stretchy, I was sure it could fit on him. It might take some scissors and safety pins but it could definitely work.