Commercial Company

Before I can say anything, she drags me by the arm toward a men's store. "You need a pair of pants," she declares as she propels me inside.

"I do?" I say, while dropping the stem in my shirt pocket.

As we walk past a rack of men's tracksuits, she grabs one off of the rack and shoves me toward the dressing rooms, saying, "Here, try this on."

"I don't think it'll fit," I tell her, while she pushes me inside a room. "It looks too small..."

The door closes behind me, and I begin to turn around. Before I can say anything more, I feel a pair of hands unbuckling my belt buckle and pulling my pants and shorts down. I look down, and there she is, on her knees in front of me.

My semi-swollen cock springs free, and wordlessly she wraps her lips around it. "Ohhhh..." I moan. "What are you doing to me..."

"Shhhh..." I hear her whisper. "Shhhhh..."

Her talented tongue is swirling around the tip of my throbbing prick like it did on the ice cream cone, and her head is bobbing back and forth, methodically sucking my dick. Her hand is gently pressing on the cheek of my butt, coaxing me forward into her greedily suctioning mouth.

My hand grabs a hold of the coat rack, since my knees are beginning to weaken from the intense pleasure her mouth is providing my dick. Up and down goes her head on my pulsing cock, and that multi-talented tongue of hers is twirling around the head.

As she swallows my cock I feel the hot breath from her nostrils tickling my pubic hair when she exhales. Jennifer pulls her lips off of my twitching dick, and licks it bottom to top, like a big candy cane.

"Aaaahhhh..." I moan softly. "Aaaahhhh..."

She runs her tongue along the underside of my cock and licks the base of it, making it twitch with anticipation. She slowly licks my ball sack, before gently sucking each of my balls into her warm mouth and swirling her tongue around them.

The sheer eroticism of what she is doing is making my head spin. Outside the door I can hear people talking and doors to other dressing rooms open and close as customers try on their clothes. They go about their business, completely unaware a gorgeous, young minx is inside this room with me, and doing her best to make me come in her mouth.

Up and down she licks my throbbing cock, and then wraps her lips around the head. As she gently pushes me deeper into her mouth with one hand, her other hand begins to fondle my ball sack, and I feel the familiar tightness begin as my nuts begin to draw up.

"I'm gonna come," I moan softly. "Ohhhh... I'm gonna come!"

She senses the twitching in my cock that signals an imminent orgasm, and I feel her hand glide across my butt. Suddenly I feel one of her fingers press against my asshole and wriggle inside my ass as I come.

Jennifer gently fucks my ass with her finger as I shoot spurt after spurt of jizz into her warm waiting mouth. The feeling of her finger sliding in and out of my ass is marvelous, and my asshole squeezes tightly around her finger as I continue to come. My delightfully overworked balls offer up their third full load of jizz, and struggle to keep up with her siphoning mouth. "Urrrrrggghhh..." I gurgle helplessly, "Urrrrr..."

My already weakened knees buckle, and I fall back against the wall of the dressing room with a loud, wall-vibrating 'THUMP'.

There's a knock at the door. "Are you alright, Sir?" I hear a male voice say.

"Yes," I barely manage to reply, "I just lost my balance. I'm alright."

I look down at Jennifer, as she gets to her feet. Before I can say anything, she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me hard on the lips. I feel her tongue press against my lips and I automatically open my mouth. Her tongue snakes inside my mouth and I taste something new and different – warm, slightly sweet, slightly salty, and rich – like a gravy or a cream sauce of some sort; which is exactly what it is.

She twirls her tongue around mine for a few seconds, then pulls back and stares at me hotly with those deep dark eyes of hers. "Anthony would never let me kiss him after I sucked him off. You're different – I like that!" she whispers sexily. "Let's go."

My composure has slowly returned to something near normal, and I tuck in my shirt, buckle my pants, and square myself away. I take the tracksuit off of the coat rack, and open the dressing room door.

A young, high school age sales clerk is about twelve feet away with his back to me, and he turns as I open the door.

"Well, Sir..." he begins, and stops in mid-sentence. His eyes look past me to Jennifer, who has emerged out of the dressing room, and is standing arm-in-arm with me, grinning like the Cheshire cat. You don't have to be Einstein to figure out what just happened in there, and he looks at me with a conspiratorial smirk on his teenage face.

I slip my right hand in my pocket, grab a twenty, and palm it. I hand him the tracksuit with my left, and shake his hand with my right.

"Thank you!" I say, smiling confidently at him. "Thank you very much!"

I feel him palm the twenty as I shake his hand, and Jennifer begins to pull me away. I see the young man look down at his hand, then pocket the bill in his pants pocket. If there's a security videotape system, I know he'll have hours of fun showing our little tryst to his friends – but I don't care, I've got the girl.

"Thank you, Sir!" he exclaims as Jennifer drags me off, "Thank you very much," and almost as an afterthought he says, "Please, come again!"

"Oh, he will!" giggles Jennifer. "You can count on that!"

"You are so bad!" I chuckle, as we walk out of the men's store. "You are such a bad girl."

"I know," she says. "You wouldn't want me any other way!" "And," she adds knowingly, "That was your third time today! You don't need Viagra when you've got me!"

Back on our mall expedition we go. Blouses, skirts, dresses, jeans, slacks, bras, panties, hose, socks, shoes, clothes, clothes, clothes, and more clothes.

Finally, I'm saved by a voice from above – "Attention Westbury shoppers," it intones. "The mall will be closing in fifteen minutes. Thank you for shopping at Westbury Mall, and have a nice evening."

"Awwwwwww," I say half-jokingly, half-sarcastically, "And I was just getting warmed up. Damn the luck."

"WallyWorld is open twenty-four seven." Jennifer states.

"What else could you possibly need?" I ask, somewhat exasperatedly.

"Toiletries," she says. "Luggage."

As we head for the exit, she stops in front of a women's lingerie store, and announces, "I have to pee."

"I'll go move the truck closer," I say.

"Okay, I'll be right out."

I drive closer to the mall entrance, and in a few minutes Jennifer emerges from the mall and climbs in the truck. She moves toward the bunk, and I think I see her put a small bag back there, but it might be something that accidentally fell to the floor.

A two hour trip into WallyWorld supplies her with shampoo, soap, a razor, blades, deodorant, a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, cotton balls, cotton swabs, nail clippers, tweezers, nail polish remover, rubbing alcohol, and countless other small items. She also manages to pick out a curling iron, a clothes iron, a hair dryer, a lighted makeup mirror, and six ballistic-nylon bags to carry it all.

We load the merchandise in the overflowing bunk, and I head back onto the interstate.

"I'm hungry, aren't you? Let's get some supper," she says.

"Yeah, I am. You've just about worn me out, I need some nourishment."

We pull into the 'Lenny's' we ate breakfast at earlier this morning, and I glance at the radio; 12:37 – we've been at this over eighteen hours.

As we walk into the restaurant, I drop fifty cents in the paper box, and grab the evening edition. "I wanna check the baseball scores," I say.

We order dinner, and while I look at the sports section, Jennifer reads the front page. Over dinner I am pleasantly surprised to learn that she is quite intelligent. Jennifer has a good knowledge of finance, world and national politics, and world geography. She's a little behind the curve on current affairs – but I presume that's a result of her recent incarceration. She's able to carry on a dialog about a multitude of topics, and she's a good conversationalist.

The waitress brings the check, and inquires if we'd like anything else.

"Some breakfast sausages?" Jennifer says, as she looks at me with her mischievous grin that I'm beginning to realize signifies trouble for me.

"Nothing else, thank you," I tell the waitress. "Sausage is a private joke."

The waitress says nothing, just smiles her robotic smile and moves off.

Jennifer says she needs to use the bathroom, and I tell her I'll wait here for her. As she goes to the restroom, I feel a bulge in my shirt pocket, and I pull out a huge wad of folded up store receipts. "I wonder?" I think to myself. I flatten them out, and begin adding up figures in my head – "317 plus 286 is 603 plus 262 is 865 plus 184 is 1049 plus 473 is 1522 plus..."

Jennifer sits down and sees me adding receipts. "Well," she asks with a grin, "How much did you spend on me today?"

I add the last two receipts in my head and reply, "Does it matter?"

"Please tell me, I'm curious."

"I didn't count change, just whole dollars. With the hotel, it's a little over forty-seven."

"I spent almost forty-five hundred dollars of your money on clothes today?" she asks in a quiet voice.

"And toiletries and luggage and other stuff."

"Ohmigawd!" she says, as she slumps back in the booth. "I'm so sorry, I guess I got carried away." She looks at me sadly and says, "Tomorrow I'll return as much of it as you want me to. I don't need all that stuff, I didn't realize I was spending..."

I raise my hand with the palm toward her. "Don't worry about it," I say. "It's no big deal."

"It is to me," she says. "I can't spend all of your money like that."

"Yes you can," I say, "...and you did!" while grinning at her.

She stares at me with those deep dark eyes, and says nothing for a minute. Finally in a hushed voice she asks, "Why, John? Why are you doing this?"

"Because."

"Because why?

"Because, I owe... I love... just because, that's why."

I go to put my jacket on, and I feel something in the inner pocket bump into my chest. "Oh yeah," I remember. I quickly move around to her side of the table, and slide in the booth next to her. "I have something for you," I say. "I hope you'll like it." I pull the jewelry box out of my inner pocket, and place it on the table in front of her. "Here, open it."

She opens the box, and recoils like she's just seen a snake. "Oh John," she whispers softly, "They're beautiful!" She looks at me and shakes her head, "You shouldn't have, you didn't need to, I don't deserve..."

"Do you like them?" I ask hopefully.

"Oh yes," she stammers. "Yes!"

"Here." I take the necklace out of the box, and as she lifts her long, dark brown hair up in back I open the clasp and clip the necklace around her neck.

"You look even more beautiful!" I say.

Jennifer turns and looks at her reflection in the plate glass window. She moves her hand up to her neck, feels the beautiful strands, and turns back to me with tears welling up in her big dark eyes.

"Thank you," she says, as she softly kisses my cheek. "I don't know what to say."

"Your smile says it all."

She looks at me and I see the tears start to trickle down her cheeks. "Thank you John for everything you've done for me," she says. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You're so good to me, you're so nice, I... I..."

I look at her and smile, hug her close, and go to kiss her. As I move my face toward her, she lowers her head, and I kiss her forehead.

"Let's go get some sleep," I say. "It's been a long day, and I'm tired."

I leave the money for the bill on the table, and we leave the restaurant. I open her door, she climbs in, and I walk around and climb in my side. As I sit down, she moves over, and softly kisses me on the cheek again. She smiles tenderly at me, and the tension is so thick it hangs in the air like a cloud. I know what I feel, and I think I know what she feels, but neither of us will say it.

We drive back to the hotel, and as I open her door, she begins handing me packages.

"Tonight?" I say. "Now?"

"Please? Pretty please? For me?"

"It'll take us five, maybe six trips," I say. "Wait a minute, I have an idea."

I go in the hotel, and look for one of the luggage carts the hotel provides. I find one, but it has no sides, and will probably be more of a hassle than a convenience. Another idea...

I find the front desk clerk, and pay him twenty bucks to go get me one of the big plastic tubs that housekeeping uses to put dirty linen in when they clean the rooms. He wheels it out to me, and I roll it out to the truck. Jennifer ends up having to carry a few bags while I push the cart - there's so much stuff it won't all fit in the tub.

We take the elevator up to our room, and pile everything on and around the bed closest to the door. I put the laundry tub out in the hallway, call the clerk to tell him he can pick it up, and thank him for letting me use it.

Jennifer pulls off her jacket, and begins to go through bags of merchandise. I watch her for a minute and say, "I'm going to get a shower, I'll be right out."

"Okay."

I turn the water on, get the temperature right, and climb in, after making sure the bathroom door is locked – I don't think I could handle another passionate encounter with Jennifer today. I lather, rinse, towel off, and put on my baggy sleep shorts. Emerging from the bathroom, I look at her, deeply engrossed in her new wardrobe. She smiles and blows me a kiss as I pass in front of her - I smile back at her and silently pad by. I sit down on the edge of the other bed, and look out the big sliding glass door. A line of clouds is visible off on the horizon, and it looks like a storm front is moving in.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I'm fine, just looking out the window. It looks like rain."

She says nothing; she's busy with her new clothes.

I turn on the television, and flip to the weather channel. 'Rain starting early Sunday morning, and continuing all day Sunday,' it says. It's gotten cool in the room, so I think I'll get under the covers to stay warm. I flip through the channels on the TV, but nothing interesting is on, and my eyelids start to get heavy.

The last thing I remember is a voice saying, "What about this, John? Do you think this matches?"

CHAPTER FIVE

I wake up, cause I have to pee. "10:03" says the clock radio on the nightstand. I empty my full bladder, and shuffle quietly back to the bed. I notice that all of her new clothes are neatly folded and stacked in little piles on the other bed and the sofa. "That's one squared away sailor," as I hazily remember something from another life.

Shuffling over to the sliding glass door, I pull back the curtain and look outside. The sky is overcast, and rain is pummeling down. As I crawl back under the covers, I glance over in the bed next to me. Jennifer is laying there with her back to me, the blanket pulled up over her shoulders, and snoring softly.

I put my hand out, lightly rub and pat the cheek of her firm, curvaceous butt for a second, roll over on my back, and fall asleep again.

I dream I'm back in the Navy, and I'm at sea. We catch a dark haired mermaid with big brown eyes, and she wants to have sex with me. We do, and the feeling is great, very delightful. So delightful that I sleepily awaken and open my eyes.

Jennifer is astride me, sliding her velvety smooth snatch up and down on my already awake cock. I watch her for a moment, enthralled by what I see. She is wearing a silky, champagne-colored negligee that envelops her curvy body about to the top of her thighs. Two thin straps hold it up, and a gossamer brocade of silk and lace partially covers her pendulous breasts. Her big brown areolas are just visible behind the inviting veil, and her nipples press firmly against the lace. The front is low cut, and displays an abundant expanse of her ample bosom. "I don't remember buying this, she must have bought this when we were leaving the mall," I think.

Her tousled dark brown hair frames her gorgeous face, the pearl necklace reflects its luster in the soft light, and the delicate fragrance of her perfume fills my nose. She is a picture of feminine beauty, a goddess, Aphrodite – and she is pleasuring herself with my body.

"Good morning," I whisper.

"Shhhhh..." she whispers, placing her fingers delicately on my lips. "Listen... Hear the rain?"

The rain beats a polyrhythmic tempo against the glass of the sliding door, and reminds me of another night, not so long ago, not so far away.

Her body moves as fluidly as the rain, as she strokes her juicy pussy on my engorged cock. Her eyes are closed, and she effortlessly raises and lowers herself on my dick. Up and down she slides her sweetness on me, rolling her hips, and making my cock slither about inside her luscious pussy.

Silently, I move my hands over her body, feeling her shapely and firm legs, her tight butt cheeks, her back, her shoulders, her arms, her breasts. I rub my hands over her hourglass figure again and again, feeling the sensuous touch of her skin, the ripe fullness of her breasts, the tight muscles of her thighs as she skewers herself on my dick.

Her well-lubricated snatch is hotter than a volcano, and I can feel streams of molten lava flow out of it and drench my balls as she lustily indulges her wanton desires. I see her imposing tits lazily undulating as she satisfies herself with my cock, and I delicately caress them through the silky negligee.

I move my hands up, and gently pull down the material covering her left breast. It frees itself from its confines, and presents itself to me. I swirl my tongue around the hard, bullet-like nipple and greedily suck it into my mouth.

"Ummmmm..." Jennifer says almost inaudibly. Her hand moves to the back of my head, and she begins running her fingers through my hair, as she pulls my head onto her enormous tit. There's no milk in it anymore, but I still continue to suckle and nurse the nipple like there was – pulling gently on the teat with my lips, running my tongue over the nipple and blowing cool air on it before I resume sucking on it.

Jennifer says nothing, but just continues to silently work her sexual magic on my pulsing hardness.

I continue to move my hands over her body, and as I move a hand across her thigh, I feel one of her hands on mine. I automatically know what she wants, and I slip my fingers into where our bodies are joined together. I feel her rigid clit, and I lightly massage and stimulate it with my fingers, sending electric jolts of pleasure through her voluptuous body.

Jennifer grinds her over-stimulated clit against my fingers with an urgency that is timeless, and as I pull my lips away from her luscious tit, I look at her face. Her eyes are closed, she's biting her lower lip, and she is completely captive to the feeling that I'm providing her.

I hear her breathing become deeper and more ragged, and her hips seem to be moving of their own accord, as she continues to pump my twitching prick into her syrupy snatch, and grinds her sensitive clit onto my hand.

With a final gasp, I feel her pussy begin to involuntarily quiver and spasm around my deeply embedded cock. Her muscles tense, as she pushes her juicy pussy down on my cock, burying it in her as deeply as she can. Hot streams of nectar cascade from her pussy and coat my balls with their warmth.

She shudders two, three, four times, and slowly begins to breathe again. Her face, her entire body is aglow with sexual pleasure, and it makes me feel good to know that I can provide her with such physical gratification.

As her orgasm subsides, Jennifer slips off of me, and lies down beside me on the bed. Her arm drapes over my chest, and her head is next to my ear. I lay there, looking at the ceiling – thinking about how I feel towards her, and I hear her softly say, "I love you, John. I love you so very much!"