The Dressing Room 15

I approached the women's lingerie department with great trepidation. Normally I cruise by thehanging bras and panties; averting my eyes and looking to the far horizons of the store for the men's department. But today, I was on a mission and I had come to the department store early to avoid any semblance of a crowd and to, hopefully, find someone who might be able to help me find whatever it was I was looking for.

My wife had never been interested in my buying lingerie for her. That wasn't something a man was supposed to do. But my new girlfriend, and someone half my age, was very into receiving intimate gifts of the silk and satin sort, so I had begun to learn the ropes. It still wasn't a natural process for me, but I had learned not to be "too" embarrassed about being a man shopping in a women's world.

As I entered the department I saw that my decision to come just after opening was probably a good one. The aisles were deserted and I craned my neck to find a salesperson or someone to help me. It was as I turned the far corner of the counter that I saw her standing there.

She was 5'-5', maybe 120 pounds and stood with her hip cocked slightly, perusing the log behind the register. She had long curly black hair and a very exotic air and demeanor. Her face was beautiful, with high cheekbones and dark eyes, and her skin was naturally dark as well, hinting of a Mediterranean heritage. But certainly, the asset that jumped out at me was her exquisite body.

She was wearing a short tight black skirt, a white silk blouse and black stiletto heels. The cocked angle of her hips told me she had an insouciant quality that I have always found attractive in a woman and her bemused look gave the sense that she got the joke; whatever that might be. Her breasts were full and pushed healthily against the thin fabric of her blouse. The tight short skirt did little to hide her perfectly round ass and her long lean legs were encased in what I could only imagine were thigh high stockings. Her full lips seemed pursed and ready for the first customer of the day.

I approached slowly and apologetically.

"Excuse me. Could I bother you for some assistance?" I asked.

Her face broke into a beaming smile and I was immediately put at ease. She was even better looking close up and I decided that I would put myself into her hands for guidance and consultation in this strange world.

"Sure. Can I help you find something?" she asked with a professional air, while also displaying a hint of raw female sexuality.

"Hi, er, yes. Thank you. I was looking for, ahhh, well, it's, ahhhh....."

I was cool, calm and collected, as usual -- or so I thought -- as I sidled up to the glass counter and immediately looked down her blouse, several buttons of which were strategically left undone. I didn't want to look; I tried not to look; but I could not control my wandering eyes. I could tell she was wearing a camisole and her full breasts were packed in tight against her chest. She knew where I was looking and made no move to avoid my stare. In fact, she pulled her arms together and her compressed breasts bulged, full and firm underneath her delicate camisole

"You're not the first guy to come in here, you know," she said, doing her best to put me at ease. "If you tell me what you're looking for, I'll try to help," she said with a lascivious smile. "My name's Angie." She extended her delicate hand.

"Jack," I replied.

I shook her hand; firm grip, warm hands, hot thoughts roiling through my brain. It wasn't worth pretending it was something other than what it was, so I decided to be direct and to the point.

"Well, I have this girlfriend, you see, and I was looking for something I could give her for Valentine's Day. Something really sexy."

I saw her look at the wedding band on my hand and give me a knowing smile.

"And exactly how old is girlfriend?" Angie asked knowingly. I hesitated.

"27." Angie smiled.

"You must be old enough to be her father."

I may be in my mid-fifties, but I keep myself in shape and my body has held up remarkably well. My girlfriend keeps telling me how handsome I am and how turned on she is by my age, so I guess that has given me a certain confidence in how I deal with women now. Angie seemed to be smiling that sort of "I'm attracted" smile, so I pushed ahead.

"Yea, I guess," I said sheepishly, but proudly.

"That's okay. I understand. Lots of my girlfriends are into older married guys." She looked me squarely in the eye. "They say they are excellent lovers. Makes me want to try one myself some day," she said with a grin.

"I'm sure the opportunity will come along one day, Angie."

I wanted to ask her if today would do, but I maintained my composure. Our conversation turned back to the task at hand.

"So. What kind of lingerie do you think you're looking for?"

"Well, I guess I don't know really," I responded. "I think I'll know it when I see it. Something simple and silky. Maybe black."

"Okay. And what size is she?" Angie continued to query me.

"Well she's about your size actually," I said as it gave me a chance to look her up and down. "But not quite as..." I searched for the right words. "She's not as busty as you are, Angie," I stated in all honesty. "She's a B cup."

"Well, there are times I wish I was a B cup," Angie replied.

I looked at her in astonishment.

"What? Are you kidding me? You look...you look fantastic, if you don't mind my saying so."

Angie giggled and arched her back slightly to accentuate her full breasts as they pushed against the silk fabric of her blouse; the faintest hint of her nipples protruding forth.

"Well, sometimes I think a B cup would suit my slender frame better. But, you know how it is. The grass is always greener."

"Well I can't believe you've ever had a boyfriend complain, unless he was a complete and utter fool."

Angie laughed and swelled with the compliment.

"No. In fact, they haven't. You're right. So, let's see what we can find."

Angie came around from behind the counter and led me through the maze of hanging lingerie. I honestly wouldn't have known where to start, so it was great to have her assistance. But I was paying a lot more attention to her than I was to the product at hand. I kept wondering what she was wearing underneath. What does a lingerie saleswoman wear to work? My mind was working overtime as she began to pull things, tiny delicate things, off the racks and hold them up for my perusal.

In each case she would hold the garment in front of her like it was on her. I was still having a hard time getting past looking at her beauty and found myself wondering what she would look like in all the things she was holding up. She seemed intent on finding the right thing and I was enjoying myself so much I just let her keep searching; playing the tough indecisive customer.

She kept asking leading questions and I kept using the opportunities to compare my girlfriend to her.

"Does she have a big butt?" Angie asked.

"No, she's actually got a nice tight bubble butt. Just like you do."

Angie smiled.

"Does she like to wear stockings?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"I love to wear stockings. Thigh high with a little lace at the top. Great for accentuating your thighs with the right pair of panties. Or a thong."

She was rattling on so unselfconsciously, but she had to know she was getting me excited and I saw her look down at my crotch several times as we wandered and talked; gauging whether she was getting me turned on or not. The temptation was growing and I decided to push the program a bit.

"Geez, I don't know, Angie. There's so much to choose from. What would you choose? What would you like.....if you were my girlfriend, say?"

I was not being very smooth, but at this juncture I really didn't care. I plowed on.

"Like, what are you wearing right now?"

Angie looked at me with a sly grin and walked me over to another aisle. She picked up a silky black camisole and a tiny black thong. She held it up against her body and smiled seductively at me.

"I'm wearing this, if you must know. And stockings, of course. And the stiletto heels you can see."

"You know it's just so hard to imagine what this stuff would look like on someone. It's so small and delicate. I wish there was some way to see it on someone." I hesitate a moment. "Or see it on you."

There it was. I'd laid it out there and was either going to get shot down or hit the jackpot. Angie looked at me bemusedly and then looked around the department. It was still mid morning and there no customers to speak of. She looked back at me, then turned on her heels.

"Follow me," she said very matter-of-factly and over her shoulder as I followed like a little puppy dog. I watched as her pert round ass swayed under her tight short skirt and wondered what I was in store for. Damn, she had a great ass. We headed for the dressing room door.

"We can't be in here long," Angie whispered, as she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the largest of about five dressing rooms. They were small cubicles with doors. The inside had a bench, as well as a wooden chair. There was a mirror on one wall and a mirror on the back of the door. Angie grabbed the chair and put it in the middle of the space so I could see both mirrors at a right angle and told me to sit down. I did. There was no lock on the door, so we were definitely living dangerously here.

She stood three feet away against the full length mirror.

"Ever been in the women's dressing room before?" she purred.

"Can't say that I have, but there's a first time for everything. I've never had a live lingerie model before either. So show me what I'm going to buy."

She looked so sexy, standing there in her stiletto heels, tight skirt and silk blouse; her dark wavy hair falling across her face. She began to unbutton her blouse, slowly and seductively, looking me in the eye as each button popped open.

"So the nice thing about a camisole is that you don't need a bra, but it gives you a little softer look. See how nice my breasts look in this," she said as she opened her blouse.

The silky black camisole was shiny in the harsh fluorescent light, but her breasts filled out the cups to overflowing. The cami was snug below her bustline and accentuated her tight stomach and tiny waist.

"And when you lean over, it holds your cleavage together so nicely." She slowly leaned forward, put her hands on my thighs and her breasts squeezed between her arms. "Don't you think?"

She looked down at my lap to see if she was getting any reaction and smiled at the growing bulge in my trousers.

"Another nice thing about a camisole is that you can lower it, but keep it on. It's kind of a nice accessory," she continued.

She reached up and lowered the straps over her shoulders and let the material fall forward. I gasped as her lovely breasts came into view. They were full C cups, with rather large nipples that were bubblegum pink. The tips were already standing at attention as she cupped her supple bosom and squeezed each one, looking at me with lust in her eyes. Her breasts jiggled slightly with her movements and I ached to touch them, to lick them, to slide my cock between them.

"Good Lord. Do they come in other colors?" I stammered in my inimitable charming way.

"Several. Yes. Do you like it?"

"Well, only if it goes with the panties."

I'm a tough customer. Angie smiled and turned around. She flung her hair and looked over her shoulder at me as she began to unzip the side of her impossibly tight skirt. Once the zipper was down as far as it would go, she used both hands to lower, in a painfully slow manner, her skirt over her hips. Her perfect round ass came into view and the thin lines of a black thong arched over her gorgeous hips and disappeared into the supple crack of her delicious ass.

She slipped the skirt down her slender legs and let it fall to the floor. She leaned against the wall, facing away from me, and spread her legs slightly. The view of her gorgeous ass, framed by the stockings below, the camisole around her middle and the thong stretched tightly across her bulging pussy was too much. Her pussy lips stretched the tiny thong into a seductive hanging bulge between her thighs. She smiled as she looked at the tent pole in my pants.

I was trying to maintain my cool, but I know I was staring at her with my mouth wide open. My cock was hard as a rock now and Angie was staring at my excitement and enjoying the affect the situation was having on me.

"Take your cock out, Jack," she directed.

As I unzipped and extracted my rock hard cock, she turned around. Her body was amazing. Her full breasts hung seductively over her lowered camisole and swayed slightly as she turned. She leaned against the mirror on her shoulders and arched her back slightly, pushing her hips forward while spreading her legs a little. Her silk clad pussy mound was protruding toward me as I hastened to expose myself. I could see a little groove in the middle where the silk was being pulled in between her labia. I pulled my cock out and scooped in to pull my balls out as well.

"Oh, Jack," Angie purred. "Nice dick, baby. Mmmmm."

She was looking at me with lowered lids as she stroked her pussy through the thong, looking at me lustfully through the hair that had fallen over her eyes. My cock stood long and proud, my balls tucked in their big sack, barely fitting through the zipper opening. I grabbed the shaft with my thumb and two fingers and began to lightly stroke as I watched Angie perform.

"One advantages of a thong like this is that you can pull it aside real easily and keep it on while you fuck," Angie said with lowered lids.

She pulled what little material there was aside and exposed her glorious pussy to my view. She wasn't shaved, but very well-groomed; a little landing strip running north. Her lips were full and pink and I could see moisture already gathering on her folds. She used her index and middle finger to spread her lips so I could see into her gaping pink hole. I was doing my best not to drool as I watched this sexual vixen expose herself to me.

"Sold!" I said. "I'll take 'em all. Angie, you're the most amazing salesperson I've ever met."

"You haven't seen anything yet," she replied as she knelt down between my legs and took my cock in her tiny hands.

She just stroked it and looked at it for a minute as I reached down to fondle her succulent breast; so soft and round. My fingertip grazed her nipple and it stiffened under my touch. She reached around and undid my belt and helped me lower my pants and boxers to the floor. Now my cock stood at attention from between my shirt tails as she leaned in close and licked the tip.

"Want me to suck your cock, Jack?"

It was a rhetorical question and needed no answer. I placed my hand on her head, weaving my fingers into her thick black hair, and guided her home. She opened wide and took my head into her mouth. I could feel her tongue swirling around the underside of the tip as she wrapped her hand around the base of the shaft. I felt her other hand massaging my full balls as she began to bob on my cock with her slippery mouth. It felt so good; I let out a groan.

She held the tip of my cock aloft as she licked down the shaft and took my balls into her mouth; sucking on first one, then the other. She traveled further south and began to lick my perineum; that sensitive area between the balls and my asshole. I moaned and urged her on. She came back to my balls again; using slow languid teasing movements that were driving me crazy. She pulled back for a moment, never letting go of my prick.

"I love your cock, Jack; so nice and thick. Mmmmm. I'd love you to fill my mouth with your hot cum, baby," she whispered softly.

This woman was insanely hot. I was so freaking hard I thought I was going to explode right then. But I wasn't in danger of coming quite yet, so I let her suck for awhile longer, knowing that I was going to fuck her right here in the dressing room.

I stood up in front of her; she was still on her knees. I put my hand on the back of her head and pulled her deep on my cock. She opened her throat and took me in. I began to rock my hips back and forth slowly as she gagged and moaned, my cock filling her throat and stretching her mouth. I looked down at this gorgeous woman, sucking my cock for all it was worth and began to feel a tingling deep in my balls. I knew it was time to move on before I blew my load.

"Angie, I need to stop before I blow, baby. Plus I need to return the favor."

I stood up and guided her to the chair. She sat down and immediately spread her legs, opening up her gorgeous pussy. I knelt down to pay my full attention. Her pussy was exquisite; her pink gash wet with her juices and engorged with excitement. I began to kiss around the edges of her labia; working into tighter circles as my lips and tongue zeroed in on her clit.

I stuck my tongue out, leaned down low to lick her asshole, then slid it slowly north; lapping up her voluminous juices and tasting her delicate folds. She moaned as I journeyed up, placing her hand on my head and trying to pull me in deeper. I wiggled my tongue as I went; the wet sounds of my oral maneuvers and Angie's soft moans being the only sounds in the quiet dressing room. I moved in closer and closer, finally arriving at her clit, swollen and protruding from her hood. I licked it in soft little strokes, watching her reaction and movements to gauge how to lick her.

Her hips bucked up to meet my mouth and I used the flat of my tongue to absorb her clit and apply steady rhythmic pressure. I alternated this with sucking her clit in between my pursed lips, a move that made her moan with pleasure and grind her pussy hard against my mouth. Her taste had a tangy sweetness to it and her glorious scent was overwhelming me; putting me into sensory overload.

I pulled away for a second just to enjoy the view. Her pussy gaped open and wet, her clit stood proud and stiff, and juices had dripped and gathered at the juncture at the base of her minora. She was pulling my head back toward her sex.

"Don't stop. Suck me!" she stated unequivocally.

I dove back in with abandon, determined to make her cum. I slid two fingers into her slick opening and began to suck and lick with an earnest steady rhythm. Her hips moved to the same tempo and I could feel her breathing growing toward a crescendo. As I worked my tongue, lips and fingers in unison, I felt her push up off the chair to meet me. Her vocal encouragement spurred me on and I felt her growing towards an explosive orgasm. I didn't stop, didn't let go, didn't waver in my determination. And suddenly she let out a deep groan and I felt her pussy spasm on my fingers, as her body bucked with the waves of an intense orgasm. My face glistened like a glazed donut from her copious lubrication and I smiled up at her as her spasms slowly subsided.

"Another tough day at the office. Huh, Angie?

She smiled and leaned down to give a deep wet kiss; tasting and licking her cum off my lips and mouth.

"You taste so good, baby. Don't you think?"

She didn't say a word -- just stood up and directed me to sit back down in the chair again. She moved in close, swung one leg over my thighs as she faced and straddled me. She put her hand down and guided the tip of my cock to her opening. We both felt frozen in time for just a second as my cock tip grazed her opening and she slid it back and forth across her clit. Then she put both arms around my neck and slowly lowered herself onto my huge erection. Inch by inch she lowered, impaling herself slowly, but surely. Then she pulled up all the way to the tip and slammed down hard, as my cock drove all the way into the hilt. She let out an audible groan, but we were both cognizant of the fact that we couldn't be too loud. The idea that someone could walk in on us at any minute was driving us both crazy.