In the Fitting Room

I am so glad you decide to meet me at the store. I had just received a promotional mailer from them a few days ago, telling me all about their new lingerie designs! I know I want to buy some new stuff, but I also think it would be fun to put on a private show for you, too!

You turn about 30 different shades of red as we walk through the lingerie section. I keep picking stuff out in my size, handing it to you to hold. I give you a kiss, and tell you to relax. The salesgirls don't give a damn about you being in the lingerie section. I sweetly ask you to pick out some bras for me that you like. You remember my size, I say.

I take some of the articles from you, and place them in a fitting room. The best thing about this store are the fitting rooms-- spacious, well-lighted, full-length mirror, and a comfy bench to sit on!

After we finish hauling the majority of the lingerie into the fitting room, I tell you it is time for me model the "goods" for you. The conservative side of you questions if you should go into the fitting room with me. . .I reassure you again the salesgirls don't care! They were too busy at the front of the store to even notice what we were doing.

I have you come in the room and sit on the bench. I drop my big purse on the floor, and you can hear an odd noise clanking inside of my purse. You ask what I have in there, and I tell you you will find out. I search through all of the lingerie, trying to figure out where I should start. I ask you what you would like to see me in first? You pick out a cute little leopard print one piece teddy. I quickly shed my shoes, jeans, and sweatshirt. I put on the teddy, then I pull my naughty heels from my purse.

I look around for a place to sit. . .you are on the bench, and if I sit on the floor, well, anyone could see under the door! You offer your lap to me.

What a gentleman I say, as I perch myself on your thighs. I slide my feet into the shoes, then stand. I like the way the shoes make my legs look, which is the first thing I focus on in the mirror. The teddy is cute, too! I parade around in front of you, turning so you can see all angles of the lingerie on me. You make some nice comments about it. I turn my back to the mirror, then I bend over. I look at my ass from my position between my legs. . .I can see your reflection in the mirror. . .my oh my, what a hard cock we have. . .

I stand back up. I start to tell you how I used to floor model for LB, way back even before I ever worked for them. I tell you how I was typically the only woman brazen enough to model some of the lingerie during the shows. I tell you how much I enjoyed prancing around the stores, having makeup professionally done feeling absolutely gorgeous. . .

I decide to pick out something else to try on, as I keep talking. You don't interrupt me, letting me go on and on, as you enjoy the view. Now I pick out a very feminine lacy ivory bra. It has matching panties full of lace as well. I figure these objects were something you must have liked, because I am not a "lace" kind of a gal. I let the "current" teddy fall to the floor, as I point out to you it has three snaps at the crotch. . .

I put on the ivory bra-- yes, you do know my size! Then I carefully step into the panties, making sure I don't snag anything with the naughty heels. I look at myself in the mirror- you are full of compliments for this selection! I actually like the way the lace looks, and the light color allows the faint outline of nipple to show through. Yes, my nipples are hard! I move around the fitting room just a bit, kicking the previous outfit into what I call my "buy" corner. I figure, since it smells like me, I should do the "right" thing and buy it! You tell me to come closer, so you can touch the fancy digs. . .me being me, I say "no" and start to find something else to try on.

I can see just how hard you are. . .you like fashion shows, don't you?? I find another sweet outfit. . .a cotton strappy nightgown. This one is tshirt gray, cute, but looks more like something I would wear to sleep in. You like it, because the thin material lets my nipples take center stage. I am thinking this could be fabric I would love for you to rip off of me during a passionate attack on me. . . I sit on your lap again, in this plain gray number. I slide myself around on top of your jeans, leaving a wet spot on the fly of your jeans. . .I can feel the rise of you beneath me, as I give you wet hot kisses. You slide your hands over my ass, lifting the material off. Now you are able to put your mouth on my nipples. I enjoy your mouth on me, but I know I have so much more stuff to try on. . .

I tell you that as I pull away, making my move to stand up and pick out something else to try on for you.

You pull me back over, telling me no, I have to finish what I have started and who cares about a lingerie show? I ask you, what about your conservative side? What happens if you get caught being an extremely bad boy in the fitting room of a ladies retailer, with me wearing nothing but Come Fuck Me Heels and a smile?

You answer is one of "don't care" as you stand to let your pants fall to the floor. You sit back on the bench, pulling me down onto your trusty sword. . . I luxuriate in the feeling of your hard dick inside of me, as I arch my back. You have an excellent view of bouncing tits topped off with nipples, and I get feel your dick stroking a different part of my pussy. I know we are making noise-- the bench is squeaking, you are moaning, and our bodies are making the rhythmic "slapping" sound everybody knows is stellar fucking! I feel myself start to cum, the wetness sliding down your pole, into your lap. You grab my hips for leverage, and pound yourself into me, making me take everything you have to give. . .

I end up spending about $350 in lingerie. You are "spent."