12. Escalator (1)
For several days, I did nothing but attend classes obediently. I was terrified that if I kept this up, I might do something truly irreversible, so I cut off all my outdoor escapades and focused solely on studying. But I know myself too well—I'm a total pervert. I couldn't just sever pleasure from my life entirely. With those primal urges building up unsatisfied, nothing worked right—not studying, not daily routines. Lewd thoughts kept invading my mind. Irritation gnawed at me constantly, leaving me hollow and unable to function, so in the end, I had no choice but to negotiate with my body.
I'd do something even more thrilling in a place where no one knows me. I'd teeter right on the edge of getting caught, in a spot where it might actually be okay if I did. It felt like real pleasure addiction, but there was no other way. What can you do? This is all me. So I picked a weekday afternoon at the shopping mall. That escalator I'd seen before. Show just enough not to get fully exposed, then head straight back to the dorm. I steeled myself with that resolve as I stepped into the mall.
To avoid anyone recognizing me as Im Ha-yoon, I'd even worn a mask. I'd chosen a flare skirt that fell just past mid-thigh—not too short, so my underwear shouldn't show under normal circumstances. I wasn't even sure myself how far I wanted to go, so I'd just grabbed something with some length to it.
On the first floor of the shopping mall, my gaze followed the escalator upward. Every glimpse of legs from the people above sent a strange anticipation fluttering through me, my heart pounding as excitement slowly filled my chest. This is gonna be fun...
...But I can't be satisfied with something this long. I turned and headed to the bathroom. In a stall, I pulled out the scissors I'd brought and snipped away at the seams of the flare skirt. Now, when I moved my legs, instead of the fabric rising modestly to cover them, my bare white thighs would slip out completely uncovered. And when the hem fluttered, my black panties would flash into view. Standing still, it looked like a normal flare skirt—but the moment I moved, there was no hiding the pervert underneath.
Haa... my thighs feel so cool. The breeze slipped right through the gaps in the skirt. I walked carefully toward the escalator, keeping my legs close together. Even the slightest spread made the skirt flap like it might flip up. It felt like I was standing in the mall without a skirt at all. Everyone around me must be staring. But when I scanned for eyes, twisting my head this way and that, no one looked at me with contempt for the pervert I was. Just a couple of people passing by with puzzled expressions, like why's she just standing there?
No one's looking. No one's noticed my weird skirt... Then it's better not to act suspicious and draw weird stares. If I walk confidently, no one will know. Don't cover up. Walk naturally. ...And honestly, not covering the skirt sounds even more fun. Even if someone's behind me, even if someone looks up from below—don't cover. Let everyone see my panties naturally. My heart raced with anticipation. My crotch grew slick, soaking my panties in moments.
I watched people boarding the escalator. Slowly, at a pace that wouldn't seem odd, I followed them on. Against my will, the machine lifted my view higher and higher. Once on, I couldn't get off at my whim. It forced me onward. Excitement rose to my throat, hot breaths escaping with every exhale. A few people ahead chatted among themselves; behind, I heard others boarding one by one. I didn't dare turn around. I just fixed my gaze on the back of the person in front of me. Bag slung to the front, I gripped the shoulder strap tight.
There probably aren't people peeking up skirts normally, but the thought of it terrified me—not the men themselves, but what I might do if their gaze excited me too much. The escalator's vibration made the front of my skirt quiver. A little more shake, and the gaps might have parted completely. That heart-thumping thrill, amplified every time I glimpsed people passing below at the edge of my vision—my pulse hammered wildly.
I'm such a pervert... feels weird. But good. If someone a few steps back stared up my legs, right into the skirt, licking me with their eyes... and then the skirt fluttered? Not just a accidental flash, but getting caught wearing this pervert outfit on purpose... Hngh. I felt my hole clench tight.
Then, thudding footsteps rushed up from behind. I whipped my head around instinctively. Two guys were bounding up the escalator fast.
"Hey, run faster! We're late!"
The one following yelled apologies to people around as he leaped two steps at a time. They blew past me in a blink.
"Kyaa!"
The wind whipped my skirt hem into fluttering shreds. I grabbed it with both hands to stop it. My face burned red—I could feel it myself. Did they see? Did everyone around spot my skirt? I hadn't meant to flash blatantly; I just wanted the thrill...
A quick glance around: the person right behind stared at me wide-eyed. Their gaze flicked between my skirt and my face. Their slightly open mouth said they'd forgotten how to speak. Busted. I'd shown my panties to a stranger without meaning to. My first time flashing panties to someone unknown. Shame boiled up hot.
I bolted up the escalator like those guys. My skirt thrashed wildly, exposing my white thighs defenselessly to everyone's eyes. Legs striding wide, I couldn't bear to look down at how the hem whipped around. I just fled, flashing inner thighs and black panties, desperate for an empty spot.
"Hahk, hahk... haa... haa..."
My heart raged from the sprint. I panted through the mask, which choked my air, so I tugged it down under my chin. In a dim back passage behind a staff door, I calmed my heaving body. First thought: idiot. I'd come here to show off anyway. That's why the mask, why I cut the skirt. So what if my panties flashed? Why run? Fleeing probably drew more eyes. And I'd sworn not to cover, yet I grabbed the hem anyway.
Disappointment stabbed my excited body. Ignoring my own rules ruins the fun. Even I was disgusted by my actions.
"Haa..."
A bad girl who broke the rules needs fitting punishment. I slipped a hand inside the skirt. The cut seams made it easy. Fingers hooked my panties and yanked them down. Whoa, soaked. The crotch was visibly drenched, almost dripping. I stepped out carefully, avoiding my shoes. I tried stuffing them in my shoulder bag, but they were too wet—might stink up the bag with my lewd scent. No choice; I dropped them on the floor. Someone might see... but that could be fun.
A passing employee spots them, realizes there's a pervert in the mall. Wanders around holding soaked panties, hunting the culprit. Gets caught, exposed as the panty-less girl in the slutty skirt. Yelled at loudly in front of everyone... Just imagining it squeezed my chest tight. That'd feel so good. Perfect...
Cautiously, I lifted the flare skirt and stroked my pussy with my hand. So easy. Just slip through the gaps, and it's out there.
"Hngh, eunggh..."
Sharp pleasure raced up my spine following my fingers. No, I don't want to masturbate here and end it. I peeked out toward the passage. People passed by, chatting obliviously. I wanted to blend in, flash my inner thighs' secret spot amid the crowd. Humming with pleasure, I straightened my clothes and stepped back out.