Holding the Purse

For years, I was one of those guys who complained about going shopping with their girl. After all, when a woman asks her man to go shopping with her, what she usually is asking for is a designated purse and bag holder who will spare all valuable and relevant opinions. That's what "let's go shopping," had always meant to me; until, I met you.

The first day we went shopping together, you were waiting for me, sitting on an old bench in the park. You had not been waiting long, although you seemed a bit annoyed. I couldn't understand why. I had gotten there on time, you knew I would walk from my office to the park, so if I was late, which I was not, there was no reason for you to have been upset. "Hi," I said, as I took the seat next to you. The day had been cool, and you did not have on your old black leather jacket.

"Hi," you answered back with a faint smile.

As I think back, you had a strange look in your eyes, as if you were up to something, but your body language, your dry greeting, they threw me off. I just thought you were cold, so I asked, stupidly, "Are you cold?"

The shirt you wore was low cut, and your arms were bare. The skirt hugging your waist and thighs was short, too short, I thought, but I had nothing to complain about. I've always loved your strong legs, your tight body, the way you cross your legs when you wait for someone, me in particular.

"I'm not cold, but come on, let's go, we don't have much time."

"Time for what?"

"I want to go shopping."

"Shopping?" I didn't want to say it, but you had not told me of any plans to go shopping, and shopping is not my favorite thing to do. So, in desperation, with the entire universe behind my plea, I did what a man could only do when he is faced with a challenge of this magnitude: I asked, "I thought we were going to have dinner?" You just took my hand and led me out of the park. Your mind was set, and my hunger would have to wait.

I had no trouble following you up and down the shoe store; I don't mind watching you slip in and out of high healed leather boots.

"How do these look?"

To be honest, I like it. When I watch you strut around in those boots, I can't help but think about your legs wrapped around my neck, as I spread your pussy open, expose your clit, and lick it, soft, then hard, just the way you like it.

"They look like you should have a cat of nine tails in your hand."

You noticed this about me, how much I enjoyed watching you strut around, you must have, because you kept on trying on the most sluttish shoes and boots you could find. And not to my surprise, you bought nothing, absolutely nothing. You were such a brat to the sales person, but he couldn't complain, he got a good show.

We left the shoe store, and I thought, even with the raging hard on stuffed in my pants, thank goodness it's over; but it wasn't over.

Now it was time for clothes, shirts, skirts, dresses... This meant that I would have to stand there, hold your purse, and agree with you when you say things like, "no, that dress is way too skimpy," even though I would think that you should buy it, hell, I'd buy it for you, you just looked that damn good in it.

Finally, we reached our last destination. A store whose clothing line I would of thought you would never have considered: Paris knock offs with a hefty American price tag. I gave you a funny look, as if to say, here, really, you want to go in here? You smiled, and went into the store.

We had run around for the past 3 hours. I was holding your purse and three small shopping bags. I had had enough. You motioned for me to come inside the store with you, but I pretended not too notice, and took my phone out. I saw you enter the store. You didn't look back at me in annoyance; simply, you just walked in and left me out there to my own devices.

I started to make calls. Damn, no one picked up, I tried four people and no one, and no one picked up. The night was cool, but I didn't mind, I could finally relax and get my mind off you. I wanted to fuck you so bad; my cock had been straining to get out of my pants all evening. It was only the thought of public decency which restricted me from lifting that little skirt over your waist, spreading your legs apart and sliding my hard cock inside of you, fucking you, pounding your pussy right in front of the store clerks.

"Excuse me sir?"

A girl in her early 20's, pretty, well dressed and well mannered stood before me.

"Um, yes?"

"Your girlfriend wants you to come into the fitting room with her."

Her presence was not the least bit unbelievable; as I've said before, you're such a brat...

"Does she?"

"Sorry, she says it won't take long."

There was a smile on her face, a sympathetic smile.

"The fitting rooms are straight back that way."

I must have grunted, because she began to laugh.

"I can hold those bags for you at the front if you like?"

"Yes, thanks."

She smiled again, and took the bags.

I turned and walked in the direction of the fitting rooms.

"Sir," she said.

"Yes?"

"All the way back." She pointed again; I was going the wrong way.

"Thanks," I said sheepishly.

When I got there, you were in the last room.

"Took long enough," you said from behind the door.

"Yeah."

The door opened.

"Well, come in," you said.

I looked around, not sure of what to do. Some stores are really strict about letting two people into one fitting room.

"It's fine, trust me," you said.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure, we are the only ones here, and the store will be closing soon. I just want you to tell me how this looks."

You showed me three very short, very low cut dresses. You had your skirt and shoes off, and stood at the center of the fitting room, in a little thong and bra.

"Well, are you coming in?" I entered the fitting room and closed the door.

The red dress was the first one you tried on. Of course, you couldn't just put the dress on, you stood in front of the full length mirror, with the dress pressed against your tits, examining it, picking at it, at how this was cut this way, and that way, and how you prefer the other; how you liked the material and loved the color, but you just didn't know, you just didn't know.

"Well, try it on," I said dryly, my eyes fixed on your ass, and the string of your thong snuggly hugged between your round little ass cheeks.

"Hey, don't rush me," you said, even though the store would be closing soon.

My arms were folded over my chest.

"Now let's see," you said, slipping the dress over your body.

The dress was a great fit. The material hugged every curve, every fucking curve on you. Seeing you stand there, prancing around in front of the mirror, lifting your Brest, then trying to flatten them, squeezing your ass, oh, seeing you do those things just made me want to slide my cock out of my pants and fuck you.

"So, what do you think?"

You turned and faced me. I must have been beet red.

"Looks good," I said my gaze burning a whole on your chest.

"Oh please, you just like it because it makes me look like a slut."

You slid off the dress and tossed it on the small bench beside me. You took your top off. Those perky little tits, oh, those nipples, those sweet little nipples, and the way they turn to little pebbles when you are excited...

"Cold?" I asked?

No, I'm hot actually."

Oh," I said, wondering for the first time that perhaps those hard nipples were a sign that you might be as horny as I was.

"I think this dress would look better if I go without a bra," you said.

You were right... I love it when you wear summer dresses, and this was no exception. You looked as if you would float away in that dress. Your tits were barely hidden behind thin cloth, and your legs being barely covered. You looked amazing.

All I could think of while watching you try that dress on was how easy it would be to lay you back and pull that dress off you, how easy it would be to slip that thong down your legs and toss it aside, so that I could slide my tongue up your inner thighs and into your wet pussy hole, fucking you with my tongue, then my fingers, teasing you until you wanted me to lick on your clit.

My cock was so hard. I could no longer take any more of your teasing, by now I was pretty sure that's what you had been doing, teasing, getting me hard, trying to get me to react, trying to see how far I would go. Well, you certainly found out how far I would go.

Slowly, I moved behind you. You were busy in an attempt to flatten out some rebellious wrinkles. I put my arms around your waist, and you smiled. You kissed me, playfully, on the cheek, quick and dismissively. As if to say, not now kid, I'm busy doing something important.

My hands moved up your back, and you continued to flatten out those wrinkles. They moved up your shoulders, up your neck and still, you paid no attention to what I was doing.

I ran my finger across your lips, and I felt a light kiss, a light wet little kiss as if you wanted to do more but weren't sure if I had in mind what you had been thinking of. Slowly I cupped your face in my hands and turned your face to mine. My lips pressed against yours and I kissed you, slow and hard.

Your tongue found mine, and your hand guided my hand down to your pussy. You let me know you were wet, you had been very wet. You had been waiting for me to reach my limit; you had been waiting until I could no longer take the thought of not being inside of you.

Our tongues danced and tangled with each other. You always taste so good. Your tits look so fine in that dress. Your neck, and shoulders drew my lips to your skin, and I kissed you all over.

My fingers found your pussy once more and I slid them inside of you, moving that thong aside, fucking you hard, until you needed to sit on that tiny bench. Somehow, you managed to spread your legs, and I managed to get on the floor and eat your pussy. My tongue slid up and down your wetness, licking you, drinking you in, and tasting you furiously.

I felt your legs begin to shutter. My fingers fucked you hard, faster, while my tongue danced on your clit. And then you came, all over my fucking face, right in the middle of that fitting room, with the store's sale's people not more than 20 feet away.

With your legs still spread, I rose, unbuttoned my pants and slid my cock out. I grabbed you by your hair and brought your lips to my hard cock.

"Open your mouth baby," I said.

"Oh, yeah, I want your cock in my mouth."

I began to fuck your mouth, my hips moving along with the rhythm of your head, as you swallowed my cock.

"I want you to fuck me," you said, my cock still resting on your lips.

"I've wanted to fuck you all night," I said.

You stood, and faced the wall. I lifted that little summer dress over your plump little ass and slid your thong down exposing your bareness. I kneeled behind you, spread open your cheeks and my tongue fucked your pussy while my hand played with your clit.

You must have been very turned on; you came in no time, again, your juices dripping down my face.

I stood, and you arched your back. You held on to the wall and I took a look in the mirror, right before I slammed my cock into your pussy from behind. Fuck, you looked so good. I tugged on your hair, bringing your face closer to mine.

"Damn baby, you feel so fucking good," I whispered in your ear.

You tried not too make any noise, but my hips and thighs slamming into your little ass were beginning to get loud. You continued to arch your back in pleasure; I reached below the dress and began to play with your tits. I pinched your nipples, squeezed your tits, and ran my hands down your stomach and down to your clit. I was pounding into you so hard, so fucking hard, and you were fucking my cock right back.

We both needed to come. I whispered in your ear, "I'm going to come baby, your going to make me fucking come."

You whispered back," me too, keep fucking me, don't stop, oh god, I'm going to come too."

And, we came. Our bodies pressed together, my cock in your pussy, my hands on your clit, and you holding on to the fitting room wall.

I looked in the mirror again and saw that you were smiling, you were grinning, and you had planned this all along.

"Well, well," I said, "you're definitely taking this dress."

We stood there, both of us standing against the wall, holding each other, kissing, desperately trying to catch our breaths. And, as if on queue, the girl which had called me into the store knocked on the fitting room door.

"We're closing in 10."

We laughed quietly and gathered everything. The girl was even thankful that we had returned the dresses that were not being purchased to their place. Apparently some people don't have the courtesy to do that.

I've got to say, you've changed my mind about shopping, completely changed my mind about shopping, and I just wanted to say thanks.