Accustomed to Her Face

Shopping Trip

It was night. You were sitting in the library at your desk. You were staring at your laptop. You Tube.

It was your page. You had posted childhood pictures last year. It seemed so far away.

There was a picture of you sitting on the front steps of a neat, brick suburban house. An adorable little eight year old you in a powder blue sweater, jeans, matching blue sneaks grinning shyly at the camera – mountains in the distance. There was the picture of you – eleven – summertime – standing with your bicycle by a water fountain in the park - a statue of Bhudda behind you. And there was the picture of you at fourteen opening presents on Christmas morning in that little house in California.

Mildenhall, Yokata, Wuerzburg, Vacaville - you sure moved around. But that was life. It was exciting. It was fun. It was lonely.

You were the quiet one, the student, the good girl. You read, wrote poetry, painted watercolors, day dreamed.

But nowhere in your daydreams had been an old Victorian house with an older man who would love you. You couldn't have imagined how he would fulfill the yearnings that had become more and more urgent for you as your young years passed. As you had grown, your need for stability and love also grew and these needs bled into your desires and fantasies. Your quiet, intelligent exterior belied the wild thing that lived inside your skin with her steamy desires and volcanic passion.

You knew I had recognized this wildness immediately and had admired it. I had seen your intelligence and respected it. I had seen your vulnerable heart and fallen for it.

You knew I would never have crossed the boundary between us – our age difference – without your insistence. But you had wanted the boundary crossed. You had wanted it smashed.

Now, thinking back, you could see how I was vulnerable too. I had been lost for a long time – since years ago when you, in your world, were a very little girl living half way across the globe. You tried to imagine what it could have been - what was it that had blown my life apart.

Loss. You knew about loss. And grief. But what a loss it must have been.

You imagined that tacking that little note on the bulletin board in the student center had been a huge step outward for me. You shook your head slowly. What bizarre chance.

You thought about how the fates contrive to fulfill purposes that are invisible to us. You thought about how sometimes we find our own purpose in the morass of randomness and that's the other edge of the same sword. You had found a place here. And soon it would be Christmas.

You glanced back at your pictures. Christmas. You glanced at the anniversary clock on the mantle. Quarter 'till eleven.

You heard a soft rap on the door and saw it swing open. I smiled at you and said, "Ready?"

It struck you how I always knock first – and always the same little pattern – da daaa daaaa / da da da da. An old habit. A show of respect. You smiled back and got up from your desk, leaving the laptop open. Walking to me, you wrapped your arms around me snuggling your nose in my neck as was your habit. Habits – patterns – years in the making. "Yes. I'm ready."

We were going Christmas shopping on a Thursday night at eleven. Crazy.

You bundled up. Your thick wool sweater over your thick cotton blouse over your silk camisole. You pulled on your boots and tucked your jeans into their tops. Stocking-hat, scarf, mittens. And me in my double-breasted long coat, with my wine red scarf, leather fur-lined gloves and Astrakhan hat.

You took my hand. I opened the door. We stepped into the frigid air.

The wind was high and it was blowing the snow. We clamored down the stairs to the car – our driver was holding the door for you. You stopped to kiss me before you slid across the seat, me following.

The car made its way through the winter town, over the bridge across the river. We rode on the highway for a little bit. We pulled into the mall. Empty parking lots.

But the car pulled up to the main Macy's entrance and our driver opened the car door for us. There was a fellow inside the store's glass door who unlocked the door... the store manager. "Nice to have you back, sir. Holiday shopping are we?"

He and I shook hands. "Yes, thank you. And it was so kind of you to open for us."

As we walked through the second doors and into the store. There were a few store personnel standing to greet us. He continued, "Our pleasure. You'll find everything available to you and the young miss." Turning to you he said, "I have arranged for Lynn, here, to escort you. She can take you anywhere you need to go."

Lynn shook your hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too," you said.

Lynn was tall and slender - about five-nine - in her late twenties. She was dressed in a conservative black skirt with a suit jacket - very attractive.

The manager excused himself and one of the staff took our coats and sweaters. "Have fun, darling," I said, "How about we meet in housewares in two hours?"

Lynn said, "Better make it three," and then turned to you and said, "Men."

The two of you beamed at each other and you both laughed. She took your hand and lead you off into the store. "This is really weird," you said, "I've never had a store to myself."

"A mall."

"What?

"A mall, miss. You have a mall to yourself."

"The whole mall?"

"Yes. I can take you anywhere you want to go."

You gasped – "I don't have my wallet. I didn't think of it."

"You don't need a wallet."

"What?"

"You can have whatever you want."

You stopped in your tracks. "I can get anything?"

"Anything at all."

You stood silently. The air system came on; a deep rumble. You could hear a vacuum cleaner running across the expanse of the large store floor.

"Anything."

"At all." Lynn said, and grinned at you.

"What shall I get?" You spoke quietly. "I'll get him a sweater. And a tie. But – he can have anything."

"Yes," Lynn said, "But anything you choose for him will be unique in that you will have selected it for him – it will be from you."

"I don't know his size or anything." You were distressed.

"I know his sizes, miss."

You were stunned. "You know his sizes."

"It's my job to know." She took your hand. "A sweater and tie to start, then."

"To start," you repeated. "Yes – let's look at sweaters and ties – to start." You smiled broadly.

And so you and Lynn went to the men's department and made your way through mountains of sweaters, choosing out the ones you thought would look best and suit my nature. And ties. You chose one you liked. Each time you made a choice, Lynn would make sure it was the right size and set it aside. After a few minutes another store employee collected them and took them to the counter.

But then Lynn suggested you go to one of the other men's stores in the mall... one she said she knew I liked and so you started off into the mall.

Completely empty. The fountains were running. The lights on the Christmas trees were twinkling. The canned holiday music was playing, but you and Lynn were the only people save a guard who tipped his hat as you went by.

The mall had those glass elevators in the main atrium and you boarded one to ride to the second floor. When the door closed, Lynn turned to you and quietly asked, "What is he like? I mean – you live with him – what is he like?"

You looked up at her. You shivered. "He's – he's very good to me – I've only know him for six months or so – he's – he's –"

"A bit of a mystery."

"Yes." You looked down at the floor of the elevator. You almost whispered. "I'm so in love with him." You looked back up at her face.

She slowly reached to your face and gently fussed with your hair. "Maybe you could get him another kind of present... you know, we could go to Victoria's Secret." She grinned.

You grinned back. "Brilliant."

"But first the sweater."

"First the sweater – yes." You both laughed.

Just as you were about to go into the men's store, a fellow rushed up with a measuring tape and took some of your measurements. You were very amused. "Thanks, Danny," Lynn said as he rushed back off. "Looks like you're in for some new clothes, too. When you have an afternoon free, why don't you come by and I'll have your measurements properly taken. That way, next year we won't need to do it again."

"Next year," You said. "Yes – next year."

You chose another sweater – but there was a wonderful blazer – houndstooth windowpane – you knew I'd love it.

"Yes, yes," Lynn agreed. "I'll have it sent to his tailor. Better give me you wireless number so we can have it delivered to you without him seeing it. Will you wrap these yourself or would you like us to do it."

"Oh – let me do it."

"Of course."

"Let's go to Victoria's Secret now." You giggled.

"OK, let's."

You took Lynn's hand. You rode the elevator up another flight. You went into the store. Lynn looked at your skin and your hair, fussing with it again. "How about you come in on Christmas eve day and we'll do something special with your hair?" She took one of your hands and lifted it in hers and looked at it. "You should have a manicure and pedicure. You could make a special Christmas gift of yourself, dear."

"I don't know anything about those things."

"I'll call you next week. I'll show you the ropes." You both giggled again and she fussed with your hair a little more. "You are very pretty. You look like a C-cup."

"Yes."

Lynn expertly chose a variety of bras and panties and bustiers and garter belts and stockings while you watched. And some lace gloves.

She got a chair and set it down in front of a three-way mirror. "Here – let's try these on." Her movements slowed as she began to unbutton your blouse. Slowly – unbuttoning the white cotton – and then unbuttoning your jeans – opening your blouse – helping you slide your jeans down your legs.

There was something about her touch. It was gentle and expert and you felt pampered. You stepped out of your jeans. She slid the blouse off your arms. The room was warm. You were comfortable. Lynn, even more slowly, lifted the pale green camisole over your head and off your arms. Her hand brushed over your breasts. You nipples were hard.

"We should try these on, don't you think?" She asked as she held up a beautiful red silk bra. You nodded. She stood in front of you – very close – as she reached around you to undo your bra. You both knew she didn't have to do it this way. You both knew you weren't complaining. You sensed her breathing was a little quickened.

She stepped back and gazed at you. She was drinking in the sight of your naked breasts. "You are lovely, my dear." She said. "And – perhaps for the full effect –"

Lynn knelt in front of you and slowly began to slip your panties down – down – and off your feet. You were naked. Impulsively, you wove your fingers into Lynn's hair. She slid her hand up the inside of your leg, your thigh. You slowly leaned down to her and gently kissed her mouth as her fingers brushed against your pussy lips.

You thought, "What am I doing. This is crazy. But it feels so nice – and I like it – and Lynn obviously likes it."

She smiled at you and stood back up. "OK – now –," she gently began to dress you – the red silk lace bra – her touches were like caresses – you knew they were deliberate. "When I was a little girl, I loved to play dress-up and I loved to dress my dolls too. Did you?"

"I didn't have many dolls. I liked sports stuff."

"A tom-boy?"

You giggled "Sort-of, I guess."

She knelt again, holding the matching lace panties for you to slip you feet into – first one side then the other – then sliding them up your legs. As she lifted them up your legs, she was caressing you, and this time she blatantly caressed your pussy lips.

"You don't mind, do you?"

Your pussy was moist. You leaned down to her and kissed her lips gently. "I don't mind."

Her finger dipped between you pussy lips and touched your clitoris. You took in your breath and shuddered in pleasure, kissing her again as she gently stroked you once, twice.

"You want to be my pretty dolly and play dress-up?" she purred.

"I'd love to, Lynn."

She slowly withdrew her fingers and stood up turning you to face the mirror. She stood behind you. "See how beautiful you are."

You smiled. She was right – you were lovely. The red lace she'd chosen was the perfect red for your skin – a rich, dark tomato with some dark green – like a heritage Cherokee Purple – but a bright enough red to show off against your dark skin. She fussed with your hair – pulling it back just right. It showed off the lines of your jaw and your cheeks seemed more defined. Your face seemed more sculpted than you remembered. You were becoming a beautiful young lady.

Your panties had a tell-tale wet spot and it made you look sexy and exciting. Lynn pinned your hair up. She said, "Come on," and took you by the hand back out into the mall. It was chilly and your nipples hardened again.

Down the escalator and around the corner into a jewelry store. Two attendants were there – a man and a woman. They were acting completely unsurprised and kept their eyes at a business-like level, but you knew they couldn't help but see your nipples and that naughty wet spot.

They both fussed over you. Lynn chose a simple ruby necklace with matching pendant ear rings. Silver, not gold. And she chose a silver chain, a necklace of lapis spheres, and a hand made silver bracelet. You wandered over to look at rings.

"We'd better save something for him to get you, dear," Lynn said as she fitted the ruby ear rings in your ears and the necklace around your neck.

"What does all this cost?" you blurted.

"Not near enough yet," She grinned, you giggled, then you both laughed. She squeezed your hand.

"Are you working on commission, Lynn?" you teased her.

She chuckled. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. Actually, I do."

Then Lynn seemed like all business of a sudden. She smiled, but you could sense the cool business-woman-heart. "Really, There's no commission. It's a flat fee. I am to see that you get whatever you want... but I can get a bonus in addition." She grinned mischievously.

"Oh, really – and for what?" You giggled.

I get a bonus if I spend at least a certain amount on you. She leaned in and whispered a number in your ear. Her breath was warm and seductive. The number was high. You couldn't imagine how you'd spend that much in a month of Sundays let alone on one night.

She turned to the two attendants. "Please box those," she said, pointing to the jewelry on the counter. She picked up the silver bracelet. "We'll take these with us for now."

She took you by the hand again, back up the escalator, back to Victoria's Secret. You stood in front of the mirror again. The ruby jewelry was perfect.

Lynn undressed you again. Again the caressing touches.

You stood naked in front of the mirror. Lynn was behind you again. Your waist, the curves of your hips, the way Lynn had fixed your hair, the jewelry – "My pretty Dolly," Lynn whispered in your ear and she nibbled you. She reached around to your front and gently stroked and pinched your nipples. "Have you ever considered a piercing?"

"No – I hadn't – one of my girlfriends has a nipple pierced and I've seen..." you hesitated, but then you continued because you felt so naughty all at once "I saw a pieced clitoris once."

Lynn slid her hands over your belly and down over your mons pubis, bending over your neck and nibbling on you. She dipped her fingers between your pussy lips again and stroked you. "Naughty Dolly," she said.

In the mirror, you saw the lady from the Jewelry store behind both of you – watching. Lynn said to the lady... "Do you think my lovely little Dolly is grown up enough to get her clitty pierced yet, Donna?"

"Not yet," Donna, the jewelry-store lady replied. "But maybe her left nipple. But she can't have it done by Christmas."

"Yes," Lynn said, "But after Christmas. By Valentine's Day."

"Yes – by Valentine's"

Donna was watching Lynn stroking your clitoris. You were wrapped up in your sexual excitement. Lynn was playing with you expertly... exciting you and keeping you that way.

"Help me try some other clothes on my dolly, Donna." And so the two women went to work, dressing you up in one outfit after another – the white bustier and lace panties with silk stockings and the elbow-length lace fingerless gloves.

"Why no fingers?" you asked.

Lynn chuckled warmly and Donna answered. "If there was lace on your fingers, dear, it might be rough against a man's – skin – don't you think?"

You all laughed. It was genuinely fun to be so fussed over and these ladies were treating you like a younger sister. It was really nice.

And so, after they'd selected the white and the red, they took you, in a black outfit, back into the mall. "Time for shoes, Dolly." And you all laughed again.

All this time, both women had been caressing you and teasing you. Donna had joined in stroking your clitoris, while Lynn kissed your neck. Lynn had briefly sucked your nipples as they fitted on the black bustier. And they had left off your panties as they led you to the shoe store.

You were painfully excited and in the shoe store, there was a male attendant who let you in and although he too maintained a professional aloof, you saw him swallow hard.

The ladies sat you down in one of the chairs. "Better measure her, Richie, the ladies giggled." The man, Richie, sat down on the stool in front of you and reached for your right foot. As you lifted your leg and set your foot on the stool, you knew you were slightly exposing your pussy. You saw his eyes flit up to glance at your cunnie lips.

Lynn came around in back of him. "Take your time, Richie. Isn't she lovely?"

"Yes, she's very lovely." Richie said.

You could see a distinct bulge in his pants.

Donna came over with several shoes – all very high heels. "Richie, be a dear and get these in our dolly's size."

"Actually," you said, "I prefer flats."

Lynn said, "Richie – those lovely sequined slippers."

Richie stood up with a little noticeable effort, and Lynn slipped her arms around him from behind. "Why, Richie, you really do think our dolly's a lovely little thing," she said as she wickedly ran her hands over his bulge. It had the effect of showing you how large his cock must be.

"You see, miss, what endears him to us?" Donna asked as she sat next to you.

"I certainly do," you said breathily.

Donna ran her hand up the inside of your leg, pulling you slightly open. She dipped her finger between you pussy lips as Richie watched and Lynn stroke his bulge. "Off you go, Richie." And she patted his behind as he hurried off to the stock room.

Soon he was back with three shoe boxes. He sat down on the stool and put the boxes on the floor. He opened the top box and took out red sequined flats. He offered one to your right foot and you raised it to slip the shoe on, but Richie was distracted by the view. And it didn't help that, as you slipped your foot into the shoe, Donna gently pushed your legs a little further apart.

Now Lynn is kneeling beside Richie. She's nibbling on his ear while she caresses his cock through his trousers.

"Come on, Richie," she says as she draws his zipper down, "Show us what you're made of."

He doesn't protest as she opens his trousers and slides his boxers down to his knees. She adjusts him on the stool so you have a perfect view of his engorged cock and his large balls.

He is very large indeed, and Lynn begins to stroke him gently – expertly – like she does everything – expertly – and Donna dips her fingers between you cunnie lips and begins to work you.

It is wonderfully erotic being exposed to this young stranger. And he is so excited by you and by the novelty of his predicament. Lynn is stroking him. Pre-come is glistening at the tip of his shaft. He's young and eager. You can tell it won't be long.