"I wear it all the time," she said as she removed the sweater and placed it on a nearby rack. "The store is always cold!" She stood straight, wearing a light, knit, sleeveless top and a grey mid-length skirt, giving Jeff a good look at her figure. Which look he took full advantage of. And Monica blushed. Again.
"I think she's about the same as you, maybe a little more in the hips. She's not quite so young as you appear to be!"
Monica's blushes were running together. That happens a lot around Jeff. "I am twenty four, Sir. Going on forty, I think," and she gave Jeff one of those self-deprecating half smiles that seems to apologize for not being all that and a bag of chips.
"Now, now, don't go bashing yourself, Monica. There will always be somebody to do that for you. Not me, however, not by any stretch of the imagination!" Jeff laughed heartily as his own words. "Okay, back to business. You are a good model for her, or her for you, at least for... for lingerie." He smiled a secret little smile that Monica didn't miss, even she didn't know how to interpret it. "Since it is a bra and a panty I am after, how do we figure her size?"
"Well, Sir," Monica blushed again, her eyes lowered so she appeared to be inspecting his shoes, "you examine my... my breasts and hips and see if they are approximately the same as your girlfriend, or more or less."
A beatific smile broke out on his face, "You mean I should feel how big your breasts are? And how big your..."
Here eyes snapped to his face and her blush deepened, "No, no! I mean you should look closely." Her hands were at her side but curled so tight her nails dug into her palms, but that wasn't her main problem. As she turned her gaze back to Jeff's shoes, a look of horror crossed her face. Her nipples stood out through the bra and sweater as if they were little bullets waiting to be fired.
Jeff, never one to be troubled by a woman's embarrassment, with mischief in his eyes and voice, said "Don't worry, hon, I was just having you on. Though I have to say, you look most lovely at the moment." If Monica could have pulled an Elphaba disappearing act right then, she would have, but no such deus ex machina whisked her away. "I think her breasts look much like yours. Especially right now. And her hips are maybe a tiny bit wider, though not much." Jeff did have a cruel streak in him, no doubt about it.
"Please, Sir, are her... are her breasts bigger or smaller than mine?" Monica quivered with the need to run and hide, to end this, this, this... this unbelievably hot whatever it was with this man. She was so turned on that she feared she might be leaking past her panties - and that particular fear had never even occurred to her before that moment.
"Her breasts, too, are slightly bigger I think. Mind you, it's all guess work if I can't use my hands." Jeff smiled that slightly cruel, slightly evil, but totally hot smile again. There are times when you can literally see things begin to jell, and things in his mind and events in the world were definitely jelling.
"Please, Sir, how much bigger? My bra is a B cup and a thirty four inch bust and I have a twenty five inch waist and thirty four inch hips." Monica was panting by now, nothing holding her in place except Jeff's expectations and her need to comply.
Jeff made gestures in the air with both hands, as if he were dialing radios. "Oh, I'd say if you are B then she's probably a B as well, and her bust and hips are really close to your size."
"Okay, what kind of bra and panty are you looking for?" Now that the measuring had concluded, Monica started to relax a little. Her hands unclenched and her nipples receded back into her bra. Neither change escaped Jeff's notice.
"Oh, something lacy and slightly transparent. I just love that look under the right blouse, don't you, Monica?"
"I'm sure I don't know, Sir!" Monica had recovered a little, enough to be more her old self. As soon a she spoke, she regretted the words. As much as Jeff frightened her with his very presence, she felt alive when he looked at her, when he spoke to her, even when he teased her. Maybe particularly when he teased her. And not just alive, but present, and real. She didn't want to push him away, and her old self was definitely a push-awayer.
Jeff read her inner conflict like an open book, and ignored her attempt to put emotional distance between them. "Monica, if you don't mind my asking, how did you come to work here?"
Even Monica knew it didn't matter if she minded or not, she would answer his question. "My aunt Jill owns the store. I finished up my MA - that's Master of Liberal Arts - and, well, jobs are hard to come by. Aunt Jill offered me a job for as long as I need it. Mostly I work when it's quiet. I've only been here since December, so there's a lot I don't know." Jeff could see her own words resonate with her as she heard herself speak. That's the way it is, usually. You don't know what you think until you articulate your thoughts, and then sometimes you catch yourself by surprise. Monica surprised herself when she realized her last words did not refer to the store.
"That whole job thing is such a mess right now, isn't it? I am glad I'm not just getting out of college today. Truthfully, it's not just because of jobs. I was a callow youth in my youth," he smiled, "and I much prefer myself today." Monica couldn't imagine this man as a callow youth. He looked in his mid forties, fit but not physically intimidating, blond gone slightly graying, with penetrating blue eyes and a brilliant smile. His sense of presence was formidable, and she feel as if sparks were shooting from her simply because she stood close to him. "So let's see what we can find," and he began to run his hands over every panty and bra in the store. Every time he picked up a bra, Monica felt his hand on her breasts, and every time he picked up a panty, she felt his hands on her hips, or maybe a little lower, but she wouldn't let her mind go there.
Finally he settled on a beautiful set, off white, silky, lacy, and semi-transparent. He held them up against her arm. "These would look really good on you, Monica." He grinned, "Or off you"
Discomfited by his words, she could only stutter, "I.. I... I don't think I could wear something.. something like that, Sir!"
