Shopping

In the middle of the weekday, the store is quiet. She wanders through the open space, running her hand gently along the racks of delicate undergarments. Her gaze flitting from shelf to shelf, skipping from mounds of brightly colored panties to intricately carved bras. Pastels merging into bold creations, setting the tone for each section of the store. In her arms she holds a delicate confection of lace and strings, seemingly too insubstantial to even require a hanger. Picking up a packet of stockings along the way, she makes her way to the fitting rooms and glances around for the store clerk. Seeing no one nearby, she tries the door to one of the dressing rooms and finding it unlocked, slips inside. The dressing rooms are in a half-circle around a little sitting area, concealed behind a heavy curtain. The sitting area has a soft, long, overstuffed ottoman for the waiting guests and a large mirror.

Inside the dressing room, she unbuttons her shirt and is unsnapping her jeans when the cell phone warbles in her purse. Scrambling, she reaches in and pulls it out, smiling as she sees the caller ID of the person calling.

"Hi," her voice softens involuntarily. She steps out of her jeans and slips the shirt off her shoulder as she holds the phone with one hand.

"Where are you now?"

"In a store..."

"Which one?"

"Leila's Boutique, I told you I was going, remember?" She halts and glances down at her watch, wondering if she's running late or if he simply forgot.

"I remember. I finished early, I'll meet you at the store."

"No, wait..." she stares mutely at the phone as it goes dead in her hand and swears softly. She doesn't want him to see her buying these things, she wants to surprise him. Perhaps there is still enough time before he gets there.

Stepping out of her panties and slipping off her bra, she reaches for the clothes she brought with her. First the thong, then the thigh high stockings, and finally the corset. Her fingers hurry to tighten the delicate lacing in the front, pulling the corset together, as it lifts and squeezes her breasts, pushing them up. The corset laced, she leans down to test the range of movement and in that moment hears a sharp rap on the dressing room door. Her heart leaps in her throat but a scant second later she realizes that the missing store clerk has probably reappeared and is checking the rooms.

"Yes?" her voice shakes a little, but her heartbeat is already slowing down.

"Open the door, please." It's him. Apparently he was a lot closer when he called than she thought. She doesn't have time to think and refusing him is not an option. Slowly, her hand reaches for the door and turns the handle. His long legs are the first to meet her eyes as she takes in his body, stretched out on the settee in front of the dressing room. Arms folded across his chest, he regards her with a steady gaze.

"Very nice," the sensual tone of approval in his voice brings a flush to her cheeks, reminding her just how underdressed for a public place she is.

Stammering, she steps back into the dressing room,

"I'll only be a moment..." before she can finish, he raises his hand, commanding her to silence. The words freeze in her throat and a delicious sense of helpless inevitability spreads through her, heating up her skin, letting the blush suffuse her chest and arms. She swallows and watches as he rises gracefully from the settee and takes a step toward her, entering the dressing room and crowding her back toward the little puffy cushioned seat in the corner. Though these dressing rooms are about twice as large as those in a usual store, his size dwarfs the space and his close presence makes her heart gallop in her chest. When she hears the soft click of the lock on the dressing room door she suddenly finds it difficult to breathe, her whole being concentrating on him. Though he's seen her naked before, somehow this invasion of privacy, even though she is partly dressed, seemed more intimate.

She fights the impulse to step close to him and hide herself but unable to resist, does just that, sliding her arms around his back and molding herself to his comforting frame.

"No," his voice holds no displeasure, but she has a feeling he knows that her affection is not motivated entirely by the pleasure of seeing him. His hands settle on her upper arms and apply pressure to draw her away from him. "Do not hide from me. I wish to see you and you will not deny me."

She steps back, allowing the pressure from his hands to guide her to the back wall of the dressing room, her bare shoulders and ass pressing against the cold mirror, making her flinch.

His eyes rake her figure up and down as she stands still, waiting. She tries to follow his gaze but unwilling to meet his eyes, looks down and concentrates on keeping quiet, in case the clerk does decide to show up at some point.

"Put your shoes on, please." Her eyes fly up to his face at the sound of his voice and she follows his glance down to her high-heeled sandals on their side on the floor. Wordlessly, she steps into them. She is about to crouch down to fasten them when his hand on her shoulder stops her.

"No, turn around and bend down," his hands settle on her waist, turning her so that her back is to him. Swallowing hard, she realizes that when she bends down she would be almost completely exposed, the flimsy thong providing absolutely no protection. A tremor runs down her body, but as she doesn't like to keep him waiting, she acquiesces and bends down, folding almost in half and reaching for the sandal fastenings, wanting to hurry but also knowing that even if she buckles them quickly, he could keep her like that for as long as he wishes. The sharp intake of breath behind her confirms her suspicions about the thong and a moment later, she feels his large palms cupping her ass, kneading firmly, a thumb sliding along the wisp of material between her cheeks.

Controlling her shaking fingers, she buckles the sandals and moves to stand back up, but his palm on her back indicates that he's not done with her yet. Sighing with pleasure at his gentle yet firm touch, she lets her palms circle her ankles and allows her cheek to rest along her knee, waiting. His hand returns to her ass, both hands running down her thighs, over the top of the stockings and down her legs, sneaking between them and cupping her cheek briefly. She tries to catch his passing fingers with her lips, but they draw away and his quiet chuckle behind her tells her that he's not done playing yet.

Just as she's starting to get slightly dizzy, his hands return to her waist and pull her tightly against his hips where she can feel the unmistakable pressure of his arousal against her heating flesh.

"Stand up," his voice sounds husky in her ears. She rises slowly, not wanting to faint from the sudden change in pressure, and leans gratefully against his chest, enjoying the feel of warm strength along her back. His hands slide to her navel, slowly moving up along the tightly knit lace over her stomach and ribs, until they settle just on the underside of her breasts, cupping their corseted shape. His thumbs float above the cloth to touch the warm flesh, grazing lightly. The hands cupping more firmly, pulling slightly on the exposed breasts to draw the nipples from their confinement.

"No..." the soft sound escapes her lips involuntarily and she stops herself before she can continue but not soon enough. His hands still and his head inclines toward hers, his voice barely a whisper in her ear,

"No?" the challenge in his voice is unmistakable and she feels a shudder run through her as she stammers in response,

"It's just that someone can walk in... I just..." she grounds to a halt and her head gives a small shake, as if to wipe the slate clean, but it's too late. He's waiting, his arms wrapped around her, holding her in place. "I am sorry... it's nothing."

He remains still for an endless moment and then she feels his warm breath near her ear and his teeth gently nipping her earlobe as he speaks softly,

"You can't seem to stop second-guessing me." She's about to respond, to defend her words, but changes her mind and remains silent. She feels him smile and knows that he noticed her inner struggle. His next words confirm it, "Good."

She shivers, happy to be praised, glad she restrained herself from further comments. His hands and body direct her to turn so that she's facing the elongated mirror on the wall with him behind her.

"Watch," he orders quietly, lifting her chin to direct her gaze to the mirror.

She doesn't like looking at herself but he's right behind her and he'll know if she disobeys so she looks at herself, sneaking glances at his face in the mirror. His hands return to her breasts, pulling them completely from their confinement now and letting them rest in his palms. His fingers capture her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, tugging and squeezing, gently at first, then harder. Hard enough for her to bite her lip and draw in her breath. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against his chest before she remembers that he told her to watch. Her eyes fly open and she catches him watching her. She opens her mouth to say something, but something in his gaze stops her and she looks back at herself.

He lowers his head and whispers in her ear, "Good girl."

She flushes with pleasure and watches as blush spreads over her chest. His hands give her breasts a final caress and lower them back into the corset, leaving the nipples above the fold. She swallows convulsively, waiting for him to tell her to change back into her clothes, but something tells her that he's not done yet. Suddenly there is the unmistakable sound of footsteps outside the sitting area and she panics, starting to struggle to get away from him. But instead of releasing her, he wraps his left arm around her and forcing her to stay still, directs her gaze to the mirror so she can see him raise his right forefinger to his lips commanding her to stay silent for now. The footsteps get closer and the heavy curtain separating the sitting area from the main store is drawn back, its rings clanging on the pole.

She catches the devilish look in his eyes and almost groans because she knows that look, but there's no time to beg him not to do whatever it is he is planning as there's a loud knock on the door and a strident female voice demands,

"Is someone in there?" Before she can answer, his left arm eases around her a bit and his left palm recaptures one of her breasts, drawing the tender nipple and rolling it softly. The right hand slips down and even as she gathers breath to respond, nimble fingers draw aside the thong and one finger slips between the folds of her nether lips. She chokes on the words about to emerge from her mouth and her panicked glance catches his calm one in the mirror. His lips curve up at one corner as he mouths the words, "answer her".

She swallows and responds, "Yes, I am here," her attention barely capable of splitting between the person outside the door and what he's doing to her. His left hand is now busily unlacing her corset while the right is slipping even lower, another moment and a long finger slides down and slips inside, penetrating her, stroking her deep inside. A second finger follows and she's unable to keep her head from lolling back onto his chest, her teeth catch her lower lip and bite down savagely enough to bring her out of her trance. Just in time to hear the woman outside say,

"Oh, well... fine... next time, please ask someone to assist you before going into the dressing area. If you need anything, let me know."

She knows that she should respond but his left hand has finished unlacing the corset and has slipped inside it, settling over her stomach, splaying the fingers and tickling her skin lightly. She stammers,

"Yes... Thank you... I will..." She has no idea what she's saying, she just wants the woman to leave.

The indignant sniff outside the door tells her that she's not forgiven but she doesn't care. The footsteps move away and she finally takes a deep breath, only to let it out as a soft moan as his fingers torment her again, sliding out gently and back in again forcefully.

"Please..." she's not sure what she's begging him for. Does she really want him to stop? He must be wondering the same thing because he responds,

"Please, what?"

She doesn't answer, biting her lip again and avoiding his eyes. He withdraws from her warmth and then plunges back in, repeating, "Please, what?" She moans softly and grasps his wrist with her hands, but he's unyielding and she can't shift his hand. Instead, his other hand squeezes and tugs on the nipple it's been caressing and she has no choice but to respond,

"Please... let me cum, please," her voice is half whisper, half moan.

He chuckles softly behind her and replies, "Well, why didn't you say so?"

His fingers move over her flesh, teasing and letting her climb higher and higher until she feels the familiar tightening and suddenly her whole body shudders as her legs give way and she exhales, going limp against his frame.

His fingers withdraw as he gently nips her ear lobe and helps her to stand. Breathing softly onto her skin he whispers,

"I think you can get dressed now. I'll wait for you outside." Before she can say anything, she feels him step back and hears the gentle click of the lock as the door closes behind him leaving her alone in the large, empty dressing room.