Accessorizing Arin

I was strolling through the mall on my lunch hour one wintry Friday, happy to escape the office for sixty minutes of girl-watching, even on a blustery, chilly day.

My only lament was my choice of snack, as I glumly picked some crusty dough from the corner of my gums. Why was it virtually impossible to find a good soft pretzel in Northern Virginia, or anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon line for that matter?

Somewhere in the distance, I was vaguely aware of my name being called, but I paid it no mind at first. The last thing I wanted was to chit-chat with anyone during my brief recess from the work place. But then I heard it again, and this time, I turned to find its source, since it was unmistakably a woman's voice, and it sounded sexy.

"John! Over here!" There it was for the third time, and this time was the charm. I turned in the right direction and saw her from across the concourse, waving from the entrance to the Victoria's Secret store.

Karin Pulaski, the administrative assistant to the vice-president of marketing, was waving her hand in a beauty pageant contestant kind-of-way at me from across the second floor of the shopping center.

She had a big smile on her model-pretty face, which was rare for Karin. Though perhaps the prettiest young lady in our commercial real-estate company, it was well known that Karin was married to a controlling, jealous husband who seemed to go out of his way to make the lovely young lady miserable.

So, on this occasion, out of the office, I didn't need a lot of coercion to heed Karin's called requests to, "C'mere, please?" When a gorgeous twenty-four-year-old blonde waves to me, a thirty-nine-year-old divorced male, from the foyer of a lingerie store and asks me to approach, well, I don't need undue urging to comply. Whatever Karin was sellin', I was buyin'.

She had Scandinavian-like features, full, pink lips with almost luminescent skin. Bright golden hair, straight and long, cut to the middle of her back. If the Olsen twins ever needed a triplet, Karin could have easily passed for the role.

As I got closer to her, I saw that Karin's face was more flushed than usual. It was obviously from excitement. She never wore any make-up. The only time I remembered seeing her with any whatsoever was at our Christmas Party last month.

Even at that affair, her jar head hubby hovered over her like a protective grizzly, snarling at any man who dared take a second peek as they actually saw Karin's heretofore unseen lithe body relatively uncovered in a little black dress that night. That dress was conservative by most standards, but it was still more revealing then her usual almost dowdy wardrobe that she wore to work on a daily basis.

Her attire today was similarly modest. A loose wool, cowl neck white sweater and a long brown skirt that went almost to her ankles. Somehow, Karin still radiated natural sexuality, she was that pretty. I imagined for a split second how she would look adorned in one of the ensembles within the racks of Victoria's Secret........

"I said, do you have a minute, hello?" Karin waved her hand in front of my face as if I was in a trance, which I sort of was, fantasizing about the images of Karin half-naked in silk and lace.

"I'm sorry, Karin," I replied, trying to regain my composure, feeling the color rising in my own face. I tried to act as if she didn't have me flustered, so I changed the subject to one near and dear to my heart, as a Philly-born guy now transplanted to the south. Pretzels.

"You know, I just can't find a good damn pretzel in this state." I lifted the last piece of my sad excuse for a pretzel. "Would you like the last bite? I can't finish it."

She wrinkled her nose as if I had just offered her a piece of raw squid and took a step back, lifting her hands in a "stop" gesture. "Um, no. No thanks. I'm a southern gal, John, we don't do pretzels."

I shrugged, my diversionary tactic momentarily successful. I popped the last nub in my mouth and chewed, lifting my index finger to my lips and licking off the last piece of salt. I couldn't help but notice that her pale blue eyes followed the path of my tongue on my fingertip, and her gaze lingered on my mouth for just a second longer than necessary.

Her eyes returned to mine, and I smiled at her innocently. She looked around to see if anyone was watching our impromptu conversation, as if it were a clandestine session of espionage between two secret agents. Victoria's Secret agents, as it were.

"I need a man's opinion," she said. "Could you tell me what you like in here?" she said, gesturing inside the store.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Karin, it's Victoria's Secret. What man doesn't like EVERYTHING in there?"

Her lips curled in a pout, and I immediately realized I was missing a golden opportunity that I was going to get every lunch break. So, again, I scrambled to recover quickly. "But of course, I'd be glad to help you, Karin. What is it you'd like my opinion on?"

I paused while she bit her lip apprehensively, seemingly contemplating whether she'd made a mistake to call out to me. "And, by the way, I'm flattered that you would even ask me."

This seemed to put her at ease finally, and she smiled once again. I exhaled quietly. That was close, I nearly fucked up this little journey before it even started.

She walked inside and I followed the wiggly swish of her tight little ass. Even though her dress was long and loose, it still couldn't completely cover the shake of a tight twenty-four-year-old's rear end.

She asked a question over her shoulder. "Do you bring your girlfriend in here?"

I had to lift my eyes from her butt as I absorbed the inquiry. "Um, my girlfriend...?"

Karin stopped at a table full of lace thongs, with a clearance sign. This is a good table, I thought to myself. Karin began to sift through the choices, the way that only a woman shopper can do. Woman are intuitively drawn to a clearance rack the way moths are drawn to flames.

"Yes, your girlfriend," she continued, obviously seeking information. "You know, that dark-haired woman in the incredible red dress that you brought to the Christmas party? Isn't she your girlfriend? She's gorgeous, by the way."

Ah, yes, I thought. Jennifer. "Oh, her? Well, um, you see, she's not really my girlfriend. She's just someone I see on special occasions." Like sex, I thought. Lots of sex. Those kind of special occasions.

Karin picked up a baby blue thong and caressed the silk with her long fingers. I wasn't sure if she was now more interested in the lingerie or my dating habits. "So she's just sort of a friend-with-benefit, is that it, John?" Karin asked the question almost casually, but it was clear that this otherwise shy, reserved young woman had more than a passing curiosity.

So I played along, now picking up a thong myself, a black one with crimson trim. Our fingertips touched as she put the blue one down and I picked the black and red one up. "Yeah, I guess you could say that, Karin. But it's a little more complicated than that. You see, Jennifer's still technically married, so it's tough to get too attached."

"Married?" Karin scrunched up her nose, but not in a "Eeew, I'm disgusted, get away from me you pervert" kind of way. It was more like an intrigued, "Sooo, you date married women? That's hot," kind of look.

I didn't really want to stray to far from the task of thong shopping with Karin, but at the same time, I realized that women only ask questions like this if they are interested in a man's affairs. After all, inquisitiveness is one of the purest signs of attraction.

"I really like this one, by the way, this would look great on you, I'll bet." Karin looked down at the sheer garment for the first time and gently placed her hand on top of mine, still holding the panty.

I leaned in closer to Karin now, my hip grazing hers. "Since you asked, Jennifer tells me that she's getting a divorce, but she still lives with her husband, so it's not as if we can really have a normal 'dating' relationship. So we just sort of get together when we can and have.......fun."

I looked right into Karin's eyes when I said this. It was crystal clear to both of us what "fun" meant. I went on, having captured her attention, taking her own hand and placing the thong in her palm. "It's less complicated with a married woman sometimes. It's very one-dimensional. A woman can get her needs fulfilled, and there's no expectations either way."

Karin gulped, and I felt her hand tremble slightly as if curled around the thong. I whispered to her, "Jennifer definitely noticed you at the party, too, Karin. She told me she thought you were the most beautiful woman there. She thought you looked lonely, though. And if you don't mind me saying, she thought your husband looked like a jerk."

Karin's lips curled into a combination of a smirk and a sneer. It was also clear that this comment had touched a nerve within Karin. I noticed that goose bumps began to rise on the skin of her forearm.

What I didn't tell Karin, not right then at least, was that Jennifer and I went to a hotel later on the night of that same Christmas party and lived out wild, vivid fantasies that included Karin as a sandwich in a threesome.

Jennifer had confessed to me that she was "bi-curious" and said that Karin was "like her dream lover" when she saw her that night. And now here I was, mutually holding a thong with Karin in Victoria's Secret.

"Jennifer's right," Karin admitted softly. "He is a jerk." He shook her head and bit her lip, determined not to display any public emotion. A tear formed in the corner of her eye, but she wiped it away quickly.

Karin smiled in a self-conscious way, glancing around again to see if anyone was watching us. "I won't go in to detail, I'm sure everyone in the office already gossips about it already. But that's why I come in here and look at these sexy things, because he won't let me wear anything like this."

She went on, her eyes clear now, her voice almost defiant. "So this is my little naughty pleasure, coming in here and seeing what I'd otherwise like to buy. And when I saw you, well..........I just had to.........I mean, I wanted to get your opinion on what you like."

She blushed bashfully. "I wanted a real man's opinion on what he thought was sexy."

I said nothing. I simply took Karin by the hand as I cupped the thong in my other hand. I led her to the counter, where the bored sales associates finally noticed our presence.

"See anything you like, folks?" asked the chubby assistant manager. Her massive tits spilled out of her push-up bra, barely concealed beneath a black blouse.

I held up the thong. "Yes, I'd like to buy this for my lovely lady friend here." Karin's mouth opened in a gasp, and she began to shake her head back and forth. "Nooooo," she uttered almost inaudibly.

I gripped Karin's hand tighter, trying to be reassuring, and gently patted the back of her hand with my other. "And she will be wearing it out, so if you could just scan it and ring it up here, please, and give us a bag for the panties she's wearing now, that would be wonderful, thank you."

Chubby delightedly rang up the sale, probably counting the sixty-cent or so commission that she surely didn't earn. Karin tugged on my sleeve and whispered in my ear. "I can't, John. I mean, I can't wear this home tonight. My husband would......."

Chubby's eyes never lifted from the register when she heard Karin mention her husband, but her eyebrows raised a bit. Although I'm sure it wasn't the first time that a Victoria's Secret salesperson heard such a scenario. I'm sure they could tell some stories of their own.

I already had a plan concocted, though. "Relax, Karin. Go put them on. Be a little naughty this afternoon. And at the end of the day today, go into the ladies' room at the office, take your new thong off, put it in an inter-office envelope, and give it back to me. And put the panties you're currently wearing back on. Hubby will never know. I sure won't tell him if you won't."

I then handed Chubby the cash for the purchase and looked at her name badge dangling from her cleavage. Amber. Amber was trying hard not to act as if she wasn't listening, but she really couldn't help but to overhear. "And, Amber, you won't tell Karin's husband I'm buying a thong for her, will you?"

Amber gave me a conspiratorial grin. "We have a lot of secrets in this store, sir. That's the name of our store, after all." She looked at Karin and handed her the bag. "I took the tag off for you, honey." She winked, and then offered Karin some prophetic advice that proved Amber was wise beyond her years.

"Enjoy, honey. When a handsome man buys you a sexy present, don't ask questions or think too much. Just enjoy."

Karin peered over her shoulder shyly as she entered the dressing room. She wasn't in there long, less than two minutes perhaps, but when she emerged, her face was flushed with unmistakable excitement. Those crystal blue eyes flashed with a blaze of a mischief.

I rocked on my own heels in an unsuccessful attempt to quell the rising tent in my pants. Just the thought of lovely Karin behaving in this manner, a form of matrimonial misconduct, was extremely arousing. Her actions weren't overtly sexual, not yet. But it was definite mental foreplay that she was entering into with me, heretofore uncharted waters. And we both knew it.

"Well?" I asked as she gripped tightly gripped the bag that apparently now contained her replaced panties. "How does it feel?"

Amber looked up from the customer she was ringing up at the counter, and called out a merry, "Have a nice day, folks. Come back and see me again!"

Karin waved over her shoulder and whispered to me, "As if she helped in the least. Do you think she knows what we're doing?" We began to walk out of the store together.

I played dumb. I'm good at that, it comes naturally far too often. "What ARE we doing, Karin?" I asked in my best gee-whiz, innocent voice. But I was curious. I wanted to hear from Karin's perspective just what she thought was going on here. After all, a hot, younger, married co-worker was now wearing a tiny thong that I had just purchased for her. And this all started out by me offering a bite of my pretzel.......

I liked Karin's reply. I liked it a lot. Her eyes twinkled. "Just like you said, John." She hooked her arm under mine as we walked through the mall corridor. "We're being naughty. And it feels good. Fun."

By now, I was glancing around to make sure that there weren't any of our colleagues witnessing this improbable coupling of Karin and myself, walking arm-in-arm in public. Our hips met each other's as we unconsciously walked closer, like some invisible magnetic force was pushing us together. I barely noticed that we were walking in the opposite direction of where my car was parked.

Karin conspiratorially whispered to me, "It's really tight. I think it's a size too small for me." She wiggled her pelvis and scrunched that adorable nose again. "It's kinda wedged up into me, actually. Both into my butt, and, well.....you know......."

I groaned at this almost inaudibly, but due to Karin's proximity, she couldn't help but hear. She seemed to enjoy the reaction she was having on me. It was clear she was suddenly enjoying playing the tease. "And that makes it feel even sexier. God, I haven't been worn something like this since before I was married."

She made a left turn down a side concourse, so I assumed we were heading towards her parking spot. I was along for the proverbial ride now. I was going to remain arm-in-arm with Karin for as long as I could. I was not oblivious to the lustful stares of the men passing us by, watching me escort this hot blonde fifteen years my junior, and probably wondering what the situation was. Hey, let them buy their own thongs for young women, I thought.

We walked outside into the chilly wind and she snuggled against me more tightly, using my body as a shield against the biting westerly breeze. She pointed to her Honda Accord a few rows down. I couldn't help but ask. "Are you telling me that your husband really monitors your choice of underwear, Karin?"

Her face contorted into disgust as he was brought up again. "You have no idea how he controls me." She hesitated, her voice quivering. "No one does. It's hell. And all because........" She stopped, seemingly afraid to elaborate. Yet something told me she needed someone to talk to.

"Get in," I said, holding the door for her. "You can drive me to my car, if you don't mind. I think I'm pretty much on the complete opposite side of the mall."

She nodded her head, "Of course, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." Her skirt rose to just below her knees as she lowered herself into the driver's seat, providing me with at least a nice view of her thins, toned calves. She giggled. "I think you could say I'm a bit distracted."

I walked around the car after closing her door for her and walked to the passenger side. When I hopped in, I saw that her skirt had now risen over her knees. That didn't happen by accident. I thought, realizing that I had never seen Karin's legs that high before. She had always worn very conservative, below-the-knee skirts or dresses, or slacks.

My mind did the instantaneous calculation. Karin must have raised the skirt slightly for my benefit. She maneuvered her car out of the spot and my eyes were riveted on her lean, pale legs, knowing that there was a tight g-string that was now wedged between them at the apex. When my gaze finally did lift, I saw that Karin herself was looking down into my own crotch, where my cock was bulging against the fabric of my pants.

She blushed, silently acknowledging that we had both been busted crotch-watching the other. "Um, you'll have to direct me to where your car is parked, OK?", she said, trying to ease the sexual tension.

I directed her to a spot close to my car, but not next to it. "Pull over here, Karin." I glanced at my watch. "We have a few minutes. Let's chat for a little bit. I get the feeling you need someone to talk to."

Obediently, she eased the car into a semi-secluded space in the far corner of the mall lot, and turned off the ignition. She exhaled, a deep sigh. It seemed she was ready for a therapy session. And I was all ears.

"So, Karin," I began softly. "If you don't mind me being blunt, just why are you married to this asshole?"

She looked out past the dashboard, into the threatening January sky. "It's a long story."

"They all are," I assured her. "Just give me the abridged lunch-hour version." I turned her head gently with my palm so that she was looking at me and smiled at her. "For now......"

Karin took another deep breath. She seemed almost relived to be getting the opportunity to vent with someone, anyone. The fact that she was wearing a Victoria's Secret garment that we had just picked out together perhaps had something to do with increasing her comfort level enough to reveal her pending revelations.

(Personally, being a typical guy, I'd would have rather she'd revealed her thong. Men are such visual creatures, after all. But what the hell, I would listen.)

"I was kind of a wild child when I was younger, before I met Kevin," she began. She looked at me sheepishly. "I know, right? I mean, you'd never know it to look at me now. People would be shocked if they knew what things shy, quiet Karin did..." Her voice trailed off. I got harder just imagining what 'things' she did.

"Anyway," she continued. "Kevin is the son of a long-time friend of my father's. My father-in-law and my dad decided that they would set Kevin and me up. So it was a prearranged marriage of sorts, just like the real old days." She waited for my reaction. I gave none. I was hoping to get to the good part, the part where the thong comes off. But I digress........