It was mid-December and the shopping-centre was packed with holiday shoppers. He had a lot of things to buy, but there was always time to enjoy undressing mentally all the women around him in their short, translucent summer outfits. Especially fond of finding panty-lines, he was carrying an erection from observing a young woman walking in front of him wearing a bright yellow bikini-top and cotton culottes through which the bottom half of her bikini could be seen. He had followed her discreetly for a while, his eyes glued to her behind, only to have his excitement rise further after spotting two well-endowed girls wearing short white dresses, backless with halter tops, which contrasted sharply with their smooth brown skin. They looked like they had come straight from four weeks at the beach. He followed the pair as closely as he dared, delighted to see the distinctive outlines of G-strings clearly visible through the thin fabric of their outfits.
Unfortunately they turned into the carpark, where he knew a discreet pursuit would become impossible. His erection subsided as he found his mouth suddenly dry, and he decided to buy a drink from the Wendys booth on the second-floor. That was where he saw her for the first time.
She was tall and had long red hair with fair skin. She was dressed in costume as a can-can dancer, and as she turned from the counter with a drink in hand, he was overwhelmed by the sight of her gorgeous long curvy body crammed into a tight red and black strapless bustier laced up the front over her full can-can skirt. She was having trouble drinking her milkshake while holding a large number of leaflets, and suddenly she was standing in a pond of pink papers spilled all around her.
He bent down to retrieve them for her, standing quickly with his share of them to enjoy a spectacular view down the top of her bustier as she continued to gather the remainder from the floor. She looked up into his face and caught the direction of his gaze, although he immediately turned his attention to the top leaflet in his hand and read aloud.
" 'Exclusive Lingerie - when the look and feel are more important than the price. Free gift wrapping when you present this advertisement.'" He gave her a friendly grin. "So let me guess, you're the lucky one who has to walk around all day handing these out."
Her voice was appealing - slightly husky but with a cultured, newsreader tone. "Yes, well, it's certainly not the most exciting job I've ever had but at least the outfit they've given me is well-ventilated, as you can see. Thanks for helping me - take one yourself if you like." She smiled brilliantly at him, and he found he had to look away from her sparkling green eyes to keep his mind focussed on the conversation. He thought quickly.
"Thanks. Actually, I was just heading towards your place right now."
He paused while she put her drink and papers down on a bench and lifted her foot on to it, pulling up her skirt to reveal white petticoats, with a lovely long leg clad in a black gold-buckled high-heel and sheer dark nylon stockings with a black seam running up her calf and thigh. As he had anticipated, her stockings were supported by suspenders, red and black. She ran both hands along her leg to smooth the material and straighten the seam, then repeated the process on the other leg. He felt his penis start to rub again inside his boxer shorts, and his pulse quickened as he admired her long legs on display.
As they walked together through the crush of shoppers, she chatted about working in the shop and about the various costumes and promotions her manager seemed to think increased sales. He made her laugh when he asked her about the potential of an expansion into male lingerie: G-strings for men, for example. She said she was sure most men wouldn't have the nerve to buy underwear like that, that they'd be afraid people would think they were gay or something, or they'd be concerned about the shape of their backsides.
"Well, I'm not gay and I'd probably try one if they were more easily available," he assured her.
"I'm glad to hear it and I must say I can't see you having any problems where shape is concerned," she said, giving him an unexpected, discreet pinch on the bottom, making him jump. "I work in fashion parades quite often so I'm used to wearing them... and seeing them on the male models, which is even better."
He struggled to keep the conversation going in a casual tone, as though having his bottom pinched by a stunning model in public was the sort of thing which happened to him all the time. "And you'd see all the latest styles as they arrive, I suppose?"
"Sure. I get all my underwear from work - bras, knickers, nighties..."