This is the true story of my first time with an older woman, except that I have changed the names of the other women, to protect their privacy, and of the shop, to protect my job. I have embellished details and conversation only where needed to make the story flow; it is largely how it happened. I hope you enjoy reading about my delicious experience.
I had worked in a ladies' fashion shop for two years, since graduating from high school. It mainly caters to the professional crowd, so the clientele is often in their 30s and 40s.
I am sometimes asked to help in the change room. I had previously flirted lightly with a woman if she smiled at me a lot, but nothing close to this had ever happened before.
The Friday afternoon is slow, and I'm bored. Amanda, the other shop assistant, has just gone for her lunch break. I mosey through the shop, straightening the racks three times to pass the time.
Then I see a woman come in. She's very attractive with her curly jet-black hair in a chic short haircut wearing stylish pants and a knit top that displays the shape of her firm boobs. I guess that she is in her late thirties.
I walk up to her, smiling. "Good afternoon, welcome to Millie's. How may I help you?"
She glances at my name tag and then says, "Hello, Mary. I need a bra. I'm in town for the weekend on business and we have a dinner tonight for which I'm going to wear this dress." She holds up a bag. "It's low-cut, and I forgot to pack an appropriate bra."
"I'm sure we can help you. Please follow me." I take her to the aisle between two racks of bras. "Can you hold up the dress so I can see?" She takes the dress out of the bag and holds it up in front of her. I see the plunging neckline. "Oh my, that is deep. I hope we can find one."
"I have worn this braless, which is fine for going out on a date, but this is a business dinner, so I don't want to jiggle too much." Her comment takes my gaze to her boobs.
"Let me guess, you are 34B?"
"Very good, Mary. I guess you've seen a lot of breasts."
I smile and say, "Well it's my business to know." I don't tell her that my girlfriend was 34B, and I see that their boob shapes are identical.
"And you are 32A?" she replies.
I blush and say, "Yes."
I wonder,
"Is she flirting with me?"
We cast knowing smiles at each other as I flick through the racks, selecting a few candidates. I hold them up to me one at a time, and she selects three.
"I'll show you to the change room." I walk there and open the door.
She asks me, "Can you help me fit them? I know it's important to have them adjusted properly."
"Of course." My heart skips a beat as I close the door behind me, knowing that I will be seeing this lovely lady's naked boobs. I maintain my professional demeanour, however.
I take the dress from her and hang it on a spare hanger. I hang the bras on another peg. She takes off her top, then her bra, which I also hang. Her boobs are lovely - nicely full but very firm, with prominent nipples. I hold one bra up for her to slide her arms into and place the cups over her boobs, trying not to squeeze them as my fingers are itching to do.
I turn her to the mirror and fasten the back clasp on the middle hooks. I run my fingers under the straps in the back and under her shoulders, to remove any twists. Then I reach in front of her shoulders and hike the straps up, pulling the cups up.
"Did I hear a faint gasp?"
I adjust the shoulder straps and then come around to the front to have a look. I frown and say, "They seem loose, don't you think?"
"Yes, perhaps."
I say, "I think I'll go one tighter in back." I return behind her and redo the clasp tighter. "How does that feel?"
"Yes, better, I think."
"Let's check to make sure." From behind, I slip my fingers under the shoulder straps in front and slide them down. My boobs press lightly onto her back, and that makes me shiver with excitement. She leans back, increasing the pressure on my boobs, and I feel sparks from my nipples shoot through me.
My fingers continue inside her cups and swing side to side above her nipples. "The top half seems fine," I say. My fingers push lower, outside her nipples.
I am going mad with desire, my body reacting to my fingers on her boobs and her back against mine. I again slide my finger from side to side, this time over her nipples, which have become hard.
"Mary, stop it!"
I yell inside my head. I reluctantly withdraw my fingers and ask, "How does that feel?"
"That felt fine, Mary. Shall we try the next one?"
"Did she mean the fit of the bra or my fingering of her nipples?"
"Of course." I unclasp the bra and let her shrug it off and down her arms. She turns around to face me and smiles broadly as she hands it to me. I gaze adoringly at her exquisite boobs while taking the bra from her and hanging it on a peg.
I put the second bra on her, but she doesn't like it, so we take it off of her.
With the third bra, I repeat the fitting process. My body is now in flames at my desire for her, and I work hard to contain myself. But this time when I rub her nipples, her hands fly up, cupping the bra, trapping my fingers inside. "Don't stop," she whispers. I finger her nipples until she gasps and whispers, "Ah, lovely, enough for now."
My heart is pounding at the knowledge that she has wanted me to excite her nipples. Struggling to be proper, I say, "Let's try on your dress to see if this works." I pull away from her and hand her the dress. She pops it over her head and pulls it down.
She looks in the mirror and says, "I think it is good! What do you think?" She turns around and slowly pivots from side to side.
"Wow, you are stunning. I can't see the bra, which I was afraid might happen. It pushes you up a little to create a delicious cleavage. You are going to turn heads."
"Why, thank you, Mary." She turns back to the mirror and checks herself out. "Not bad for forty-one, eh?"
"Oh, not bad at all! You look hot for any age."
"Well, aren't you so sweet? Okay, I'll take this bra." She pulls herself out of her dress and hands it to me. I hang it back up. She undoes the bra and hands it to me, and I stare at her boobs again. She grins.
She whispers again, "Do you like what you see, Mary?" The question penetrates the haze of my passion. I can't speak, but I nod slowly. "I'm so glad that you do." She puts on her original bra and top. I pull myself together and collect her dress, the bra that she wants and the two rejected bras.
When she's dressed, she whispers, "Are you busy tomorrow night?"
I am shell-shocked that this sexy woman has invited me for, well, I'm not sure what. I think for a moment and say, "No."
"Excellent!" She sits on the bench and pulls a notepad and pen from her handbag. She writes her hotel name and room number down, handing me the page, which I put in my pocket. "Is 6:30 okay?"
"Uh, yes, I guess. I work until 6:00."
"Great. We can order in room service for dinner. Oh, by the way, I'm Sonya."
My body is glowing brightly from the activity of the past few minutes. I open the door and take everything to the desk. I fold her dress and put it into one of our branded bags. I ring up the bra and have her tap her credit card. I toss it into the bag and hand it to her. "Thank you for coming in, Sonya," I say in my practised customer service voice.
She says, "My pleasure, Mary," and then whispers, "and our pleasure tomorrow night." She smiles as she walks out.
My head is spinning at how she has taken charge of my life, at least as far as tomorrow night is concerned. Now that I'm alone in the shop, my professional control evaporates and my body churns. I feel my pussy gush, soaking my knickers.
I stride to the front door, lock it and put up the "Back at" sign and set it for ten minutes. I run back to the staff toilet and yank my skirt down and hang it on the hook. I then peel off my soaked knickers, toss them on the floor and sit on the toilet.
My legs spread and my fingers fly down to my pussy, playing over my dripping lips. I am panting. The image of Sonya's beautiful boobs comes to mind and I imagine sucking and licking her hard nipples while my fingers rub madly.
I plunge two fingers into my pussy, retrieving a copious amount of juice and spreading it over my shaven mound. I rub furiously, making my clit harden and throb under my fingers. I have been so excited by Sonya that it takes less than a minute for me to cum hard.
I stifle a scream as my body shakes. My orgasm pulses through my body in waves that never seem to end. Gradually they subside, and I stop rubbing and just hold my hand on my mound.
My panting slowly eases, but my heart pounds relentlessly. After a few minutes, when I can think again, I grab wads of toilet paper and soak up my sopping wet pussy and wipe off my fingers.
I pick up my knickers, put toilet paper on both sides of the wet spot and twist hard, soaking up as much juice as I can. I dump all of the toilet paper into the toilet and pee. Wiping myself again, little sparks shoot into me again.
I have to sit and calm myself for a few minutes before I can stand, put on my knickers and skirt, flush and wash my hands. I look in the mirror and see that my face is bright crimson.
Finally composing myself, I put on my game face and step to the front door, remove the sign and unlock the door. Fortunately, no customers are waiting outside, so I return to the sales desk and sit, pondering the events of the past half hour.
My body is still buzzing. Sonya has really gotten to me. I wonder how often she seduces young girls like me, not that I'm complaining. She has made me feel so alive.
Amanda comes back from lunch and asks, "Hi, Mary, did anything happen while I was out?"
I suppress a choke. "Oh, just one customer," I reply, not giving anything away.
"Yeah, it's been so quiet. Everyone's waiting for our sale tomorrow."
"I guess so."
"You're almost done today, right, Mary?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you knock off, I can handle it."
"Okay, thanks, Amanda."
I collect my handbag from the back and put Sonya's note in it. I wave at Amanda as I leave and walk to my bus stop. I hardly remember getting home, but I find myself undressing in my bedroom, hanging up my skirt and tossing my blouse on the floor.
I undo my bra and toss it onto the dresser, and strip off my still-damp knickers, tossing them by the blouse. Naked now, I climb onto my bed and replay the scene in the change room.
As I get to the point where I rub Sonya's nipples, I rub my own, feeling them get so hard. When I remember her turning to me, showing me her naked boobs, and asking if I like what I see, I imagine licking them while fucking my pussy with one finger, then two.
I want her so much, and she seems to like me a lot. I mean, why else has she invited me to her hotel tomorrow, told me that dinner will be room service and said, "our pleasure tomorrow night?" As I remember that comment, I rub my clit, pinch my nipple and cum. I hold my mound and cup my boob as I settle.
Glancing at the clock, I see that my sister will be home soon from school, so I crawl out of bed, put on fresh knickers and a tracksuit and dump my blouse and knickers into the laundry basket. I spend the rest of the day in a daze, talking to my sister and mum as needed, but always thinking of Sonya.
