Christmas Shopping for My Husband

"There's a sink out back," he nods.

Wait, what did I just say? I have no intention of putting this man's...thing...in my mouth. Even if it is just a toy.

Ever!

"Hold onto it for now," he says, sensing my hesitation. "There's something else I want to show you."

He lightly takes my shoulder and guides me to a part of the store that doesn't seem to have any plastic at all. Like a New Age store, it's all candles and oils.

"Oh wow," I say with a giggle. "I never knew sex shops had a romantic side."

This secluded corner looks more like a classy candle store, and I can feel my tension dissolving in soothing candle scent.

"Sex is about more than just the physical aspects," the salesman says, his hand never leaving my shoulder. "It's about passion, love. Romance. You love your husband, right?"

"Very much," I nod in agreement."

"Sex is just another way to express that love. I'm sure he never loves you more than when he sees you on your knees in front of him, his cock in your mouth as you look up at him."

His words were crude, but his tone was casual. Tender, almost.

"I guess so," I smile. The salesman's low, comforting voice in my ears is like ASMR.

"And I'm sure you feel the same way when he's inside you, or when you're laying back on the bed, his head between your legs..."

"Uh-huh." I bite my lips softly, imagining a dimly-lit bedroom with rose petals everywhere, my husband waiting for me in nothing but a white towel.

"One thing we offer is new ways that couples can show their love for each other, ideas they'd never come up with on their own."

"Really? Like what?"

"Like this," he smiles, picking up a bottle of massage oil and adding a drop to his hand.

"Oh!"

My eyes widen as he begins applying it between my shoulder blades, but I begin to relax as I realize he's not doing anything inappropriate. His touch is firm but gentle; just enough pressure that I can feel the smoothness of the oil. He's being very careful not to stain the lingerie.

"Mmmm..."

A soft moan leaves my closed mouth as the soothing oil is spread against my tense muscles.

"Nice, isn't it?"

His hands begin to move lower.

"Uh...it feels nice, sure. I'm just sure about...ahmmm..."

My objections turn into a moan as he begins to massage my lower back.

"It's really tense there," I say, pointing at my neck and hoping he'll take the hint.

His fingers are rough, but not in a bad way. Coarse. Textured. They hit my neck's pain points, gently easing the knots, and I relax. He wasn't going to do anything inappropriate, I tell myself. He's just showing off the product.

"What's your favorite scent?"

I close my eyes, giving myself over to the massage and whisper back "Lavender."

One of the large hands leaves my neck, and I hear the 'click' of a lighter. A few moments later, I'm surrounded by the gentle smell of lavender.

I can't believe how relaxed I am. I'm in the middle of a sex store, wearing less than I've ever worn around anyone who wasn't my husband, allowing a stranger to massage me...and I feel as comfortable as I do when I'm alone in bed.

After a long moan, I smile. "If you weren't trying to sell me stuff, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

"The oil is called Desire," he replies, his voice seamlessly transitioning into the smooth patter of a salesman. "Want me to add a bottle to your purchase?"

"What the hell. Let's just hope my husband's hands will feel this good with the oil," I grin.

Did I really just say that? I'm starting to sound really flirty. And how much have I committed to buying so far? If I don't get ahold of myself, I'm going to leave with half the store.

"And, of course, it works with more than just hands."

"What do you mean?"

"All of our oils work as lube, too. You won't need saliva on your toy if you have Desire handy."

"Oh good. So if I buy it, you won't make me taste your rubber dick?" I waggle the dildo as I speak, hoping my joke will lift the tension from the romantic massage.

The salesman gives a polite chuckle, and I feel my gut drop. That was inappropriate. What am I doing, joking about tasting his...thing? This scent is making me go crazy. And these enormous hands...mmm. It feels so good.

I can't wait to get home to my husband.

"Seriously though, I do recommend you taste the toy before you buy it. As I'm sure you can understand, we don't allow returns. Would you like any other candles beside lavender?"

"Hey," I protest lightly. "Who says I'm buying candles." Or the toy.

The massage continues in silence until I sigh in defeat. "Do you have Cherry Blossom?"

"Of course," the salesman says with a smug purr. I close my eyes, enjoying the massage.

"There's one last section of the store I should show you."

"Fine," I sigh, opening my eyes. "What else are you going to sell me?"

The salesman removes his hands from my back - where I hadn't noticed they'd been straying dangerously close to the black lingerie I was wearing - and moves a hand to my waist. He gently guides me to the only corner of the store I hadn't visited yet - a wall covered in black leather.

"Tell me, have you ever been tied up?"

My defenses are completely dissolved at this point, and I answer honestly without hesitation.

"Well, I...uh...one time, we tried it. But Frank didn't really like it - he said it made him feel like he was raping me."

The shopkeep's eyes widen at my comment, but he's almost immediately back to smooth patter and soft smiles.

"There's different ways to do it," he says, removing his hand from my waist and picking up a soft silk handkerchief. "May I have your wrists for a moment?"

"What are you planning to do?" I ask, holding one hand out. One part of me is nervous; the other part, curious.

"Both wrists, please," he smiles, revealing his sharp white teeth.

My other hand is holding his dick - I look around for somewhere to put it down, but there are no shelves in this corner of the store, so I place it between my thighs, closing my legs to hold it, and put my other wrist out.

"I hope you're not a serial killer," I laugh nervously.

"I am, but don't worry about it," he grins in reply. "You're not my type."

He deftly loops the handkerchief around my wrists, ensuring they can't be separated. "How does that feel?"

"A little tight. But it doesn't hurt. It's very soft, actually."

"This is a very popular item. My girlfriend loves it. And even though your wrists are constrained, the rest of you is free to move."

His hand lightly touches me on the shoulder, the side, and briefly on my thigh. "It's all the pleasures of bondage, but shouldn't make your fiancé feel like you're completely helpless."

"Husband," I correct, but the salesman isn't listening. Instead, he picks up what looks like a black rod with two loops on the end.

"Of course, when my girlfriend and I play, she likes to have her legs restrained as well. Want to try it?"

That thing looks a lot scarier than the silk handkerchief. "Uhhh, no thank you. I think this is quite enough."

"Not a problem," he smiles, quickly gliding to another section of the black leather wall. "How do you feel about collars?"

"I'm not really into that kinky stuff," I say, trying to follow him, toddling like a penguin, trying not to drop the penis between my legs. As I move around, it slides up, and is now resting against my pussy. "I mean, hands getting tied, that's fine, but BDSM stuff is just too much."

"Of course," he nods. "Some people get into the whole lifestyle - my girlfriend's collar represents my complete ownership of her, her utter devotion and submission to me. Every time she feels it against her neck or sees it in the mirror, it reminds her of her purpose in life."

I nod in response.

"And then, some people just like the look of them. Like this one."

I suddenly feel a soft piece of leather around my neck. Placing a hand on each of my hips, the large man guides me to a mirror I hadn't noticed in the corner.

"A lot of people wear this one just because they think it's cute."

"Oh!"

I look in the mirror, surprised. Far from the black leather that I had been imagining when I heard the word 'collar', the salesman clasps a sweet purple piece around my neck. It has several pink lace bows, and while it does have metal studs, they don't look even remotely threatening.

He's right; it looks cute.

"This is kind of pretty," I agree.

"And of course, you wouldn't have to do anything with it, but this one does come with a free leash."

I watch our reflections as he loops a purple leash into the back of the collar.

"My husband would think I went crazy if I came home with all this stuff," I chuckle. The mirror shows a funny image - my hands are tied together in front of me, as he towers over me, holding my leash. "I think he's expecting me to arrive home with a bag of groceries."

"Well, he doesn't need to know about all of it." He reaches out and lightly toys with the charm on my collar as he speaks. "Some of it can be for him, and some of it can just be for you."

"I'm not sure walking myself around on a leash would be too much fun," I joke. The man's deep chuckle returns.

"Of course not. That isn't what I was thinking of."

His eyes flick down to the rubber toy between my legs.

"Oh." I pause for a second. "I don't think I'd be able to hide something this big from him."

Okay, I did not just say that. What is happening to me? I'm joking with a complete stranger about the size of his cock? I need to get out of here, now.

"You'd be surprised at the small places it can fit into."

My eyes widen at the subtext of his flirty remark.

"So, um, I think the twenty minutes have passed. I can get back into my clothes now - I don't feel any itchiness whatsoever."

"That's great," the large man says, clapping his hands in delight. "I'll ring everything up for you."

He strides towards the counter...

"Uh..."

...without noticing that he still has my leash in his hand.

As I try to move behind him quickly enough to avoid choking, his fake cock is rubbing against my pussy. To my surprise, I feel...wet.

Very wet.

Oh god, when did this happen?

It must have been when I was thinking about Frank earlier, wearing that towel, surrounded by candles and rose petals.

Yeah, that's it. I got aroused thanks to the scene in my head. God, I hope the salesman doesn't notice anything when he packs the panties up for me.

When we reach the counter, the man finally notices that he's still holding my leash.

I mean, not my leash. The leash.

"Oh Goldilocks, I'm so sorry - I wasn't thinking."

He grabs my shoulders and pulls me towards him, unclasping the leash. "My girlfriend always has such a sore neck after she's walked like that - here, let me get that for you."

Before I can assure him that I'm fine, he's grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. My body is right up against his as he starts massaging my neck and shoulders again, less gently than before.

It's a firmer, deeper massage.

I begin to object, but my concerns are dissolved by the massage. God he's good at this. Why is he working at a sex shop, when he could be doling out massages for a living?

It did start to hurt a little when I was pulled. I think to myself, trying desperately to justify sticking around for a massage instead of just leaving.

"As an apology," he says, his voice low and thunderous, "I'll give you this oil for free. It's a little more expensive than the other one; it's called Lust. The texture changes a little as it heats up.

"It's mostly designed to be a lubricant, but it works great for massage."

"You're very kind," I smile, thinking he's going to put it in a bag, but within a second it's on his hands, and the next thing I know, he's rubbing it into my skin. "Ahhhhhh..."

I look at the clock. I've already spent like half an hour here. I just wanted to quickly pick up some lingerie and get out, and now I'm getting massaged by the handsome store clerk while wearing the lingerie.

I mean, by the not-as-ugly-as-you-imagined-someone-would-be-who-ran-a-sex-shop store clerk. "Uhhmm. Didn't you say your girlfriend was coming after lunch break?"

"She'll be back any minute," he replies casually, moving my bra straps out of the way as his massaging hands continue their dance across my shoulders. "Unless her car has broken down again. It's been on the fritz lately. I wish I could help, but I'm useless when it comes to engines. Are you a car person?"

"No, not really. Frank is."

Somehow, engaging in non-sexual chit chat calms my nerves about the situation.

"Makes sense."

My bra straps are now completely off my shoulders, dangling by my sides. The man's huge hands are roaming all over the upper half of my back, spreading massage oil and freely exploring.

"My girlfriend likes NASCAR, but I've never seen the appeal. Still, I watch that with her and she watches the Superbowl. We make it work."

"Frank's not really a sports fan. He does watch a lot of politics though. Sometimes I wish he would watch sports, because at least there are hot guys there." I laugh.

"Hang on," he says with a tut. "Some oil is dripping down your back."

My eyes widen as he undoes the clasp of my bra. "My girlfriend is the political one between us, so I mostly keep up to date from her."

"Oh." I squeal uncomfortably, but his low voice talking calmly about his girlfriend quickly calms me down again. I hold my tied hands to my chest to keep the bra from sliding down.

The shopkeeper's hands are now roaming up and down my entire back, pausing occasionally at my neck and my shoulders. They're moving faster than I'd expect from a massage, but not in a bad way. As he rubs the oil in, I can feel the texture changing - it was slightly sticky at first, but it loses that the more it heats up.

I start to moan, barely realizing at first. The warmness of the massage is getting to me. As more oil is poured on my neck, some of it drips down the front, slowly flowing down to enter my cleavage.

"Careful," the man warns, wiping his hand clean on my stomach and pulling the bra - and my hands - away from my tits. "You want your husband to think the lingerie is brand new when you show it off to him."

"Uhhh..."

My breasts are now fully exposed, but...he's standing behind me. Surely from his perspective, he can't see anything. Or can he? He's so tall, after all...

I lift my hands back up, to cover my nipples. They're fully erect - I can feel them against my wrists, even through the handkerchief.

The bra falls to the floor as the massage continues, the salesman chatting idly about his girlfriend and her family. He shifts, and suddenly I can't tell whether that's the rubber dildo between my legs or...something else.

Either way, thinking about the hard cock so close to my pussy completely derails my thoughts. His words get blurred, and I stop paying attention to the conversation. Something about his in-laws. Who cares.

The toy is nine inches. That means...

I try not to think about it.

As the massage continues, the man's massive hands are roaming around my entire back, my sides. On more than one occasion, I can feel him touching my sideboob - is he getting more adventurous with time, or is it just my imagination?

I'm feeling warmer and warmer. My body is basically in heat as the stranger's hands wander around it. A soft moan leaves my mouth the next time he grazes the side of my tit. I definitely need this oil at home. I should really get home. This is getting out of hand.

He's massaging my stomach, my lower back, my underboob, my neck. His firm hands are confidently rubbing every part of my exposed skin as he prattles on about nothing. I'm positively coated with Lust.

I start to worry - how will I get dressed, covered in so much oil? What if his girlfriend suddenly shows up, and finds me here in my panties, lubed up with my hands tied? Oh, god.

I'm so wet, too. I need a shower. Does this place have a shower? Can I ask to use it?

As I'm asking myself these questions, more oil is poured over my collarbone. It flows down, towards the expensive silk that's covering my breasts as I hold my tied hands against them.

"Cover yourself," he says gently, moving around to my front. Before I can object, before I can do anything, his eyes flick up and down my body and then widen. "Oh, no..."

"What?"

"Some of the oil has gotten onto the front of your panties. They're soaked - practically see-through."

I look down - he's right. Well, sort of.

Yes, my panties are soaked, but not because of the oil. There's a clear line on my belly where the oil stops, which means the wetness he's seen is not Lust. It's...well, lust.

Fuck.

I have to do something before he realizes what you're looking at. "Oh no," I say, quickly wiping my stomach like I'm trying to stop further damage - in fact, I'm just spreading the oil so the line is less obvious.

After I do, I realize that I just exposed by breasts without thinking. God. No man but Frank had ever seen my breasts, and now...

Now, the list consists of one, Frank and two, a random sex shop attendant.

"Careful," the random sex shop attendant says, hooking his fingers into the sides of my panties. "Let's not allow these to get any more lube on them."

He stares into my eyes as he slowly, gently pulls them down. I'm frozen, like a deer in the headlights.

No man has ever seen my kitty before. Just Frank.

Frank and now a random sex shop attendant.

I try to close my legs defensively, but the fake dick is still between my thighs. It's thick enough to prevent me from completely hiding anything. I lower my hands to cover my kitty, but since they're tied together, I can't cover both my pussy and my boobs.

In a panic, I alternate between them, inadvertently giving the random sex shop attendant the opportunity to take a good look at both.

"Relax," he says with a smile, gesturing to the wall of pornographic DVDs. Thank god he didn't try to sell me any of those. "It's nothing I haven't seen before."

For reasons I can't explain, I nod. He's right. There's nothing he hasn't seen before.

As if he was waiting for my nod, he resumes his massage. Now that he's standing in front of me, it's somehow more intimate than it was before.

My hands are back on my boobs. "I'm not used to men seeing me this way," I say, almost apologetically. "Other than Frank."

"Relax," he smiles. "I'm a professional."

Again, I find myself nodding, and he launches into another tale of his girlfriend's brothers, humorously poking fun of his various quirks and foibles.

"Ummmm...do you have, like, a shower in here? I think I should rinse off the oil before I get dressed."

"Nothing like that," he says, shaking his head. "Just the sink." His hands move down to my waist.

"That's, uh...not good." I look down at my lubed-up body. There's no way I can just put my clothes on like this.

"How about I text my girlfriend, tell her to bring a towel when she comes in?"

One of his hands has moved up to my side. The other is straying dangerously close to my exposed pussy.

"Alright," I reply sheepishly. "I just hope she won't find it weird, me being here naked, covered in...y'know. Lube, and all."

"Just part of the job," he replies with a chuckle, before looking me earnestly in the eyes. "So since we have some time...I feel like I have a responsibility to you."

"What kind of responsibility?"

He nods at the toy between my legs. "As you can imagine, we don't take returns on certain items."

"Oh, ummm...that's fine. I mean, that makes sense."

"I wouldn't feel right if I sent you home with it and it wasn't a good fit for you."

My eyes widen. I never even agreed to buy it, and he's suggesting...no. He can't be. I can't do that. Not here. "I can always re-gift it. I have plenty of female friends who'd be happy to have this." Or I can throw it out. Not that I'd tell him that.