Le Expo

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Laura turns the tables after receiving poor customer service.
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Laura walked briskly through the mall, her brown oxford pumps pounding the tile, frowning. She had just wasted the better part of the morning in an unsuccessful search for a new dress. Normally, shopping offered a pleasant departure from the pressures of work and "grad" school, but this time, that wasn't the case. Her cousin's wedding was Saturday and she needed a dress, now.

Christian Dior, Macy's, Armani's, Sak's, Gucci...none of them had what she was looking for. One at Sak's was close, but of course they didn't have her size. Her frustration was now compounded due to being lost, for she had entered the mall on a different level and now had to search for the closest exit to the parking structure.

"There," she thought, seeing the bright green sign at the end of the corridor. Laura didn't usually visit this corner of the mall; shops with expensive kitchen gadgets and perfume-laden bath salts were not her thing. However, out of the corner of her eye, she noted yet another display of stylish mannequins dressed in the latest women's fashions. The shop itself had some sort of "faux-European" name and was tucked in between the Coffee Bean and yet-another "soap" store. At first glance, she thought it looked rather sterile and cold, but her shoppers' instinct told her to at least scan the display for possibilities.

And then, she saw it, the last formally-dressed silver mannequin on the left. A dress. A fairly cute dress. "Hmmmn," she thought, peering into the glass. After a closer look, she thought she might like it even better than the one at Sak's. "Maybe," she thought, "but what does the back look like?"

Pushing open the heavy glass doors, her ears were assaulted by the too-loud sounds of "Jay-Z's" latest release. Two female employees lounged near the entrance, laughing as they closely examined the screen of a cellphone. Seeing they paid no attention to her, Laura walked directly to the display, holding her breath with anticipation.

"Yes!" she decided, "veeerry cute," upon seeing the back of the dummy. The dress looked to be the right blend of style and comfort, something that would compliment her features, yet simple enough so as not to distract from the bridal party. Laura wandered amongst the floor racks, looking for one to try on. After a quick search turned up nothing, she approached the two teen-aged salesgirls by the door, an African-American and a Latina. They were still engrossed in conversation when she interrupted, "Excuse me, could I please see that dress on the end?"

The African-American girl, "Tonya" according to her nametag, looked up and remarked dryly, "Oh, that one? It's up on the wall. I'll have to get the manager." Cupping her hands to her mouth, Tonya called a bit too loudly across the room, "Michael!...Customer!" Glancing at Laura, she added, "He's the manager; he'll help you." Not bothering to wait for a response, Tonya quickly turned away and resumed her conversation, "Yeah, that lil' bitch is such a tramp!..."

Laura about-faced and looked up at the wall. Sure enough, there were five of "her" dresses hanging up high on the left. Her hopes spiraled she thought about the odds of them having one that would fit. More importantly she wondered, "How much do they cost if they are kept way up there?"

Her thoughts were interrupted by "Michael", the thirty-something year old manager, when he suddenly appeared as if by magic. Actually, his arrival had nothing to do with coincidence for he was observant, if not exactly neat; he had been on his way to put a stop to the "girl-talk" at the front of the store when Laura intercepted him.

"Welcome to le Expo," he said, casting an eye towards the front door, "May I help you?"

"Yes, I'd really like to see that dress," Laura answered, pointing towards the wall over his shoulder.

Tugging on the collar of his wrinkled shirt, Michael looked up and responded, "The one with the little flowers?"

"Yes, please!" Laura answered radiantly.

"Yes, of course...I'll have to get the ladder," he muttered, "Excuse me please." Michael glared briefly at the two salesgirls, but they remained deep in conversation, happily oblivious to his attempted communication. Sighing, he turned and shuffled off towards the storage closet.

A few minutes later, Michael was standing on top the ladder as Laura nervously clutched her purse below. "What size do you need?" he asked the wall blandly.

"I'm an '8'", she answered.

"Uh-huh" Michael replied colorlessly, as he thumbed through the remaining stock on the hook. "3, 3, 3..." he droned, causing Laura's hopes to take a sudden drop, "uh, 7 and 9. That's all I got left."

With a sigh of relief, she smiled, "Oh yes! I'd love to see the last two, please!"

Michael reached for the two dresses, noting the hefty price tag. Pausing, he looked down at the blonde girl below. "She's very pretty and young, maybe 23...24?" he thought privately, "Tall too, kinda skinny but a nice ass". However he also noticed she was dressed more casually than his usual customers, wearing a green "Hollister" T-shirt and denim skirt that looked like it was from Costco. He carefully noted that several of these $300.00 dresses could easily be stuffed inside the oversized bag in her hands.

Laura watched as Michael looked her up and down from his perch on the ladder, his eyes lingering a disproportionate amount of time on her chest and hips. Her face reddening as he looked, she unconsciously crossed her arms in front of her and waited for him to speak.

"Tell you what," he said, looking into her brown eyes, "I've been doing this a long time. Why don't you take the '9' and try it on? I think it will fit you just fine."

His suggestion catching her off guard, Laura stammered, "Uh, sure. That would be fine."

Michael clambered down the ladder, (being 25 pounds overweight didn't make it easy) and handed the dress to Laura. After examining it closely, she craned her neck to look around the store. Michael, whose eyes were on her neck that very instant, offered helpfully, "It's in the back, left side."

***************

A few moments later, the latch securely locked on the dressing room door, Laura nimbly kicked off her shoes and undressed. As she knelt to step into the dress, she remembered, "Duh, Laura-it's strapless." She reached behind her back and with a well-practiced twist of her thumb and index finger, added her bra to the pile of clothes on the floor.

Slipping into it sealed the deal. Laura nearly always chose her clothing based on how it felt, not just how it fit or looked. The "feel" of a garment was an intimate quality that men, and many women, could never fully appreciate. The material was soft and silky-smooth on her skin. Laura had found that her nipples were the most effective body part for that particular evaluation. And the dress felt like it would breathe; just right, for she planned to spend hours on the dance floor that evening.

Peering into the mirror, her smile faded slightly. Smoothing the middle over her belly and tugging at the top, she noticed that it "hung" on her body a little. Ok, more than just a little. Laura's bust seemed to disappear under the fabric, but when she leaned forward, she found she could see her belly button, and "everything else" in-between, too! And the price! There was no way she was going to pay $300.00 for a dress that was too big!

"Damn!" she thought, "Why didn't that jerk give me the '7' too?" Glancing at her watch, Laura saw that it was starting to get late. Releasing the dress, she let it fall to the floor, the sudden movement making her aware of her lithe figure in the full length mirror. Staring at her tanned body, she cupped her breasts with both hands, absentmindedly fingering her nipples as she looked. She was surprised to see them "pinken" and grow stiff almost immediately, followed shortly by an altogether different sensation below her waist. She gazed into the mirror for nearly thirty seconds...thinking.

Then.

"Mmhmm" she said to the empty dressing room, a faint smile coming to her lips...

***************

"Excuse me?" a woman's voice said.

Turning from the cash register, what Michael saw caused his reply to freeze in his throat. "Yeeee...?"

There before him was the tall young woman from before, except this time, she wasn't wearing the Hollister T-shirt, she was naked! At least she sure looked naked. Michael's shocked eyes traveled downward to her very bare chest. Her breasts were not large, nor were they small. Each one was perfectly defined, not a hint of the effect of gravity; ideal examples of the French philosophy that a woman's breast should just barely "fill" a champagne glass or it was too big. A tiny mole above her left areola was the only mark distinguishing her left from its altogether lovely twin on the right. As his gaze traveled further down her form, he realized that she was not completely naked; she was in fact wearing a tiny white thong.

"What the fuu...?" he began, suddenly stopping when he remembered that he was still in fact, at work. His heart began to race as his eyes franticly searched the girl's face for an explanation. His first thought was this must be a joke, or maybe some kind of "reality cable-TV" stunt? But she wasn't smiling as if it were a joke. In fact, her face was completely calm, without a hint of shame or embarrassment. Nor did she appear to be some hard-faced "adult industry" veteran, who had long lost any sense of modesty in public. The girl just stood there innocently, looking quite like,...well, like an angel, albeit a "naked" one, looking back at him!

Then she spoke.

"I'm so sorry to bother you again," she began sweetly, each word enunciated carefully, "but I'm afraid the '9' is just a bit too large. Would you terribly mind letting me try on the '7' instead?"

She said it as casually as if she were asking a stranger for the time of day or directions to the nearest Starbuck's. In fact she seemed so relaxed, that for a moment, Michael wondered if perhaps, she didn't realize that she had forgotten to get dressed before walking up front!

Outside the dress shop, Laura's "show" in the window did not escape notice by some of the more observant male shoppers either. One young man, walking with his girlfriend craned his head awkwardly behind her back, thankful that she was too busy on her cellphone to notice what he was looking at, yet disappointed that he couldn't stop and linger for a better view. Another middle-aged man earned a scornful rebuke when he forgot to look where he was going and blundered directly into the path of a young mother and her stroller.

Having received no response for several seconds, Laura prompted, "Um, excuse me?"

Michael stared wide-eyed at her chest as she spoke to him, her pink areolas appearing all the more flushed when contrasted with the pale, teardrop-shaped tan lines on each breast. The more he looked, he found couldn't take his eyes off them. It was as though her upturned nipples had asked the question and were now anxiously waiting for his answer!

After another awkward pause, he stammered, "I'm sorry...what did you say?" carefully addressing her eyes this time and not her tits.

"The '7' please," she answered patiently, "I'd like to try it on," pointing towards the wall with emphasis, the effort causing her breasts to "jiggle" ever so slightly.

"Oh, yes, yes of course!" he answered, now a tinge of panic in his voice, "Right away!"

Michael scrambled for the ladder, almost knocking it over as he attempted to climb it. Once at the top, he fumbled for her dress so badly, he dropped the others into an expensive heap on the floor. Eventually he was able retrieve it and climb back down, blushing badly as he handed it to the ever patient, but still topless Laura.

Michael watched as Laura turned and padded silently back towards the dressing rooms in her bare feet. As she walked, her blonde ponytail swung back and forth mocking his gaze. Once she was about twenty feet away, his pulse slowed enough to allow his eyes to freely travel down her curvy hour-glass figure, eventually stopping at her buttocks. There his eyes remained fixed on her tanned cheeks, perfectly framed by the brilliant white thong that defined and separated each muscle. Disappearing around the corner to the dressing rooms, she passed an open-mouthed Tonya, who for once in her life, had nothing to say.

***************

Ten minutes later, Laura approached the cash register a second time, this time fully dressed. Michael was waiting for her, reinforced this time by the Hispanic salesgirl, who had apparently lost her nametag. Sweating heavily, he accepted the size '9' that Laura had thoughtfully re-hung on the clothes hanger. Once completing her purchase, the salesgirl (Monica was her name) handed Laura the cellophane-wrapped dress.

"Thank you for shopping at le Expo," Michael concluded with a weak flourish. He started to say, "Please come again, Miss uh..." but his words trailed off lamely when he found himself addressing her "back"- the tall girl had already turned to leave and was ignoring him as she walked toward the door.

Laura's face was still completely calm, returning nobody's gaze, acknowledging no one's stares. She walked through the silent crowd, her purchase carried lightly over one shoulder. On the way out, she casually observed that there seemed to be more customers in the store now than when she first came in. Reaching the glass doors, she pushed them open and joined the anonymous throng in the hallway.

Walking past the Coffee Bean, Laura glanced into the window. She had never been in there, in fact she didn't even like coffee, but it was the reflection in the glass that caught her eye. Looking closely, she found she rather liked the image of the tall, blonde woman confidently returning her gaze.

As Laura's eyes traveled down her chest, she noticed two very prominent "bumps" under her T-shirt. She smirked as she realized her body's outward betrayal of her racing heart. Of course, the effect was probably more obvious due to the fact that she had neglected to put on her bra, (or panties for that matter) when she got dressed the second time. "Oh well?" she thought in a naughty sort of way; she had the house to herself all afternoon and the wetness between her legs told her she'd have little use for clothing of any sort once she got home.

Nearing the exit, Laura was about to go out the door when from behind she heard the rap music from "le Expo" filtering through the corridor. Then a shrill voice, most likely Tonya's, called after her, "You GO Girl! Woooo-Hoooo!"

And Laura smiled...

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FunwithRyleighFunwithRyleighover 15 years ago
Well written

story that had me smiling by the end. Nicely done.

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