'Can I help you Sir?' She gives him exactly what he wants.
I walk in through the open door. She is seated on a stool behind the counter, reading, dark hair falling forward masking her face. Her hand holds her cheek and the tip of her little finger rests between her lush lips. She looks up and reads something in my face for even though there is no-one else present she makes no sign of recognition.
She decides to play it straight - the helpful travel agent. She gets off her stool and stands behind the counter. My cock is already erect in anticipation. I put my hand in my trouser pocket and masturbate. For a long minute she watches the masturbatory movement in the front of my trousers as I stroke the full length of my cock through the thin material of the pocket lining. She licks her lips, whether to wind up my lust or as an involuntary action she cannot control I know not. Then she looks up. Her eyes are hooded, deep, lustful. She puts one leg behind the other, slanting her hips and pushing out a buttock. She places her hands on the counter in front of her, rests her weight on spread fingers and says deadpan: 'Can I help you sir?'
I move forward and, still masturbating, rest the top of my thighs against the counter, with my engorged but trousered cock on the flat top.
I clear my throat.
'I'm interested in the brochures on the bottom shelf, but IΓm not sure which one I need.'
My voice is strange. Loud enough - but lifeless. Automatic. Not me. She looks behind her, considers the piles of leaflets, brochures and booklets. For a second she is slightly non-plussed. Then she realises the possibilities of my request and knows what I want her to do. She walks the two or three paces to the shelves behind her, high heels clicking quietly on the wooden floor, then she kneels down and balances on her haunches. The action pulls the hem of her dark blue skirt over her knees. She reaches out to touch one of the piles of travel brochures and looks up at me, still playing it straight.
'This one sir?'
She cannot be seen now by anyone outside. There is no-one about and the street is quiet. The atmosphere in the travel agent's is still and heavy. I look at her rounded knees.
'Pull your skirt up.'
She stands briefly, pulls her skirt up and squats back down. The hem of her skin is high across the broad thighs above her bent knees.
'Higher.'
She does a quick bounce and slides the skirt even higher. It is now back over the tautly stretched black nylon of her stocking tops. She is looking up at me, waiting, dark hair falling in waves round her face. Red lips parted. Her compliance makes me feel horny. I want to fuck her mouth. Pull her head onto my cock and force it deep into her mouth.
'I want to fuck your mouth,' I tell her.
She shudders. Looks at me with those heavy lidded, lustful eyes. Her mouth opens. Slowly she licks round her lips with her extended tongue.
It is my turn to shudder. I want to vault the counter, stand over her, bare my cock and push it into her mouth.
'Open your thighs.'
She drops her right knee to the floor, swivels her body slightly and raises her left knee. The new position opens up the top of her thighs to my gaze. I can see all the way up her right thigh, past the creamy white of her upper thigh to her knickers. I take my hand from my pocket and wrapping my fingers round my cock moving the thin cotton over it to continue the heavy slow masturbation.
'That's perfect,' I tell her.