Melissa at the Filling Station


One weekend a while back my roommates were out of town for a few days, so I decided to spend the weekend as a girl. I went to the store to stock up on necessary items. I bought some new makeup, a new nail polish in a merlot color and some stockings.

I spent all day Saturday primping and preening. I took a bubble bath and shaved my legs and all other unnecessary hair. I applied Nair to my face, legs and arms for complete smoothness. I dressed in a favorite peignoir gown and robe set and my Malibou puff slippers. I watched TV while I did a full manicure and pedicure, painting my nails and toenails with the merlot color polish.

As evening approached, I dressed for the occasion. I applied my make-up and brushed out my long blonde wig that matches my natural coloring. I put on my nicest lace bra and panty set, a short white lace petti-slip and dark stockings. I put on a navy pleated full skirt that came to just above my knees, a ruffled silk blouse with a self bow tie sash at the neck and navy high-heel pumps with a satin bow on the vamp. I tucked my calfskin clutch purse under my arm and headed out.

I went out and walked in public places where it was dark enough to pass. My look is not feminine enough to pass up close in well-lit areas, but from a distance and in dimly lit situations, I pass pretty well. I went downtown window shopping and browsed in the windows of the dress shops and the gown shop. As people passed me on the sidewalk, I let my hair fall in my face or covered my face coyly with the angora shawl I brought for cover. I received several looks by guys who passed.

My legs are my most feminine feature, and when shaved and dressed in stockings and heels, they look pretty good. I got checked out a few times. There were a few people who sensed something seemed a little off and there were a few date couples who debated if I was a man or a woman. A couple of guys tried to strike up a conversation with me.

I drove to various places and got out of the car to walk. I stopped across the street from a paper machine and crossed the street to buy a paper and practice my most feminine walk in heels. I got a honk from a guy who slowed down to check me out as ran across the street in minced steps.

I stopped at a gas station to buy gas, taking my credit card from my purse, scanning it and pumping my gas. I popped the hood and checked my oil like a good girl, just like Daddy taught me, then closed the hood and washed my windshield. As I leaned over the car, careful not to get my skirt and blouse dirty, I noticed a man at another pump checking me out. My skirt had pulled up and I’m sure I was showing of a bit of my petti-slip, if not the lace tops of my stockings. I closed the hood, put my receipt in my purse and drove off. I stayed out for a while, took the dog for a long walk in a quiet neighborhood and generally enjoyed the feeling of being a beautiful girl enjoying the freedom of being out in the cool night air.

On Sunday I longed around the house in my nightgown and had a nice brunch. I tried on several outfits, bathed and applied my make-up. As I was getting ready, I noticed that my facial hair was beginning to show. My face was sore and irritated from the close shaving and the depilatory the night before so I decided not to shave. My hair is light blond and very fine, so I take a longer time to show than someone with dark hair. I was going out just as it was getting dark and I planned no close encounters, so I figured it would be OK. I dressed in a short blue full dirndl skirt with a crinoline, a white tuxedo-style blouse with ruffled collar and cuffs, and black sling back high heel pumps.

I went out strolling downtown again and returned to some of the places I had visited the night before. I went to a different gas station and pumped gas again. This particular station is an old one with old pumps that don’t have the card reader. There is an outside pay window that is poorly lit and I figured I’d stop the pump at exactly twenty dollars and then all I’d have to do is slide the twenty dollar bill from my purse in the window. There is a tiny inside area that passes for a convenience store, sporting the pay counter and a couple of soda cases and racks of candy.

Noticing a couple of customers at other pumps, I opened the door, smoothed down my skirt and swung my legs out gracefully. I opened my fuel door and took off the cap and began pumping gas. Just as I did, I noticed that the outdoor pay window was boarded up for some sort of repairs; people were going inside to the tiny cramped store to pay. My heart began to race and I had a brief panic - I hadn’t anticipated going inside. There were just a couple of other people pumping gas, so I thought I’d stall till the right time when there were the fewest people and trot on in to pay. It wouldn’t be too embarrassing to have to face just the station attendant, I thought.

I was so distracted by my dilemma that I went past twenty dollars. I had only a twenty and a five dollar bill in my purse; I thought I’d watch carefully this time and stop the pump at exactly twenty-five. Then the pump stopped on it’s own at twenty-one and a few cents. Since I had filled up during my previous night’s outing, my tank was full. I tried to put more gas in, but gas spurted out at me and I had to jump back, teetering on my heels and almost falling to keep from getting gas on me. A young guy in a Mustang saw that I was having trouble and started over to help. I quickly hung up the pump handle and replaced my cap as I saw him getting closer to me. I went to the car and stuck my head in pretending to fumble with my purse, hoping he’d abandon his mission. He returned to his car and I sighed in relief.

Then I noticed that a car load of several young guys had pulled up and GONE into the mini-store; now I had to stall until they left. They were a loud gaggle of rowdy macho guys and I didn’t want to deal with them. I sat in the car with my legs outside, legs together and looked through my purse while watching the group of guys. They showed no sign of leaving, so I put my purse on the seat and went to the front of my car. I opened the hood and checked the oil, taking my time. The guys appeared to be friends of the attendant and looked like they were settling in for a visit. I looked over the engine and battery; stalling for time. Then I noticed a young guy coming from another pump looking like he wanted to be helpful. He called out and said, "You havin’ trouble with your car, doll?"

I slammed the hood quickly and headed for the driver’s door to get my purse as I shook my head and waved him off; he returned to his pickup. I couldn’t go in yet, but the longer I stalled the more attention I drew, and the more guys who came to check me out and offer help. I was stuck.

I sat in the car and fiddled with my purse some more, hoping the macho boys would leave; they had probably just come from the bar down the street. They seemed drunk and they were loud. I got out and reached for the windshield squeegee and washed the window. As I leaned across the windshield, I must have been showing off some slip and stockings and the guys inside noticed and they ogled me. I fiddled with my windshield wipers, hoping they would leave; they were talking and kept looking out my way. I could tell they were wondering why I was lingering so long. I saw one guy begin to open the door and look like he was going to come out to check on me. I tossed the squeegee in the water and stepped quickly back to my door. My shoe almost came off, and I was slowed down by having to stop and pull the strap of my sling back up. My heart was racing.

I sat in my car ready to close the door and fiddled with my purse. He retreated and went back inside. I had now lingered so long that I was attracting a great deal of attention. I briefly considered doing a drive-off but these guys would probably chase me down, and I certainly didn’t want to be stopped by the police while dressed in one of my cutest outfits.

I fiddled with my purse for what seemed like forever. The macho boys showed no sign of leaving and I really dreaded having to encounter them. I finally decided that there was no way out. If I didn’t end this soon, someone was going to come out to check on me. One other customer went in to pay. When I started this disastrous event, the station was dead; now it seemed like they were suddenly experiencing some late night rush, and at 11:00 on a Sunday night! Just my luck. I stalled some more, adjusting my hair to cover my face and pulling my shawl over my head. The other customer paid and left.

I teetered on my heels as I walked briskly over to the door. I had to stop once to pull up the strap on my sling back. I felt them all watching me. As I reached the door, they were pretending not to notice me. It was quite cramped inside with all of them in there. One of them was standing in front of the door with his back to me as I entered. He didn’t move. I had to speak. I attempted to whisper in my softest feminine voice. He made me repeat myself before he moved. He moved aside but I had to squeeze past a couple of them. I felt my skirt compress against the boys as I squeezed by. The lights inside were glaringly bright and I was blinded coming in from the dark. They had the advantage, and could see me very clearly. It was very close quarters and they moved only enough to let me by, but it forced me to brush by with plenty of close contact. They smelled of sweat and beer and I’m sure the two closest to me could smell my perfume. I held my head down to allow my hair to fall in my face. I slid my money on the counter, and in the bright light I saw how unfeminine my hands looked. I pulled them back quickly and attempted to hide them in the folds of my skirt. I turned quickly to exit, losing my balance slightly and nearly falling off my heels. I caught myself on the door jam and slipped through the door. As I teetered on my heels across the parking lot I could hear them laughing as the door closed. I felt their eyes burning through me as I gathered my skirt and slid across my car seat and swung my heels into the car. I drove off quickly and hurried home to end my night out. I felt the burn of that embarrassment for quite a while. But it was a delightful weekend otherwise. It was an exhausting evening and it felt so good to get home, slip of my heels and slip into a favorite night gown and into bed.

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