Nin

Author's note: Jim has been thinking about Michael's adventure in Bloomingdale's. He can't get it out of his mind. He's determined to give Bloomingdale's a try Wednesday afternoon. While he's waiting, you could get up to speed by reading Michael's account of a Wednesday afternoon and evening at Bloomingdale's yourself (Iona published on Literotica: 9 April 2018 -- https://www.literotica.com/s/iona-1).

*****

Lunch Wednesday took forever to arrive. I usually take a long lunch on Wednesday's and this week I planned to take the afternoon off as well. Michael had been pretty graphic about his encounter with a remarkable woman at Bloomingdale's and I was determined to try the same venue. I believed he was correct in stating that if you wanted to meet women, read "pick up," then you needed to change the rules, control the environment and approach women when and where they least expect it. His choice of location was Bloomingdale's and I felt I couldn't lose by taking his advice. If I got half as lucky as he had, I'd be up all night, if you get my drift. On our usual Friday night together, I told him I was determined to duplicate his success this Wednesday.

Wednesday arrived. I was distracted all morning and at lunchtime, I bailed out and walked, a trifle quickly, to Bloomingdale's. Once there, I scouted the women's clothing, lingerie and cosmetics departments. Michael was right. Every person, except for a couple of male salespeople, was a woman. Most were above average in looks, dressed nicely and all were available, at least in my imagination. About two-thirds of them were married based on my examination of their left hands.

I decided to try my luck in the fragrance department. I pretended confusion over the large number of choices. Eventually a cute "fragrance consultant" came over and began asking me questions. "Can I help you?" "Who are you shopping for?" "What fragrance does she currently use?" "What do you think she'd like?"

I fumbled most of the questions and, when a nicely dressed woman approached the counter, my consultant excused herself and went to help her. I moved to another counter two aisles over. I didn't approach the counter. Instead, I strolled slowly around as if I was waiting for someone. I was but I didn't know whom. I never found her. I struck out. I left alone and went home where I chastised myself for my stupidity and lack of courage. Michael would have done better and I was determined to do better as well.

At lunch the next Wednesday, I walked slowly, determined and with a confidence I didn't actually feel, to Bloomingdale's. I went immediately to the fragrance counter. I didn't pretend to shop. I stood nearby, looking at my watch and waiting. A stacked brunette walked by and she smelled incredible. I must have reacted audibly. She stopped, turned around and asked, "Did you say something?"

I was unprepared for her question and stumbled over my words as I answered, "Just that I love the fragrance you're wearing."

"Really?"

"Yes. I had a physical response as you passed me. I didn't realize I had made any sound. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"No offense taken. Tell me more about your 'physical response'."

"This conversation is getting personal and we just met. I don't think I can explain it without sounding crude," I said as I looked down at my crotch.

"I get it. This is the first time I've worn this fragrance and you've eased my concerns about it. Do you think my husband will like it? I mean as much as you do," she said as she looked down at my crotch as well.

"I don't know your husband but if he doesn't then he's either crazy or dead. It's perfect for you. No man in his right mind could resist you if that was all you were wearing."

One eyebrow came up and she looked at me with a wry smile. "Maybe I went too far with that last comment," I thought. She leaned in, kissed me lightly on the cheek and said, "Thank you. I can't wait to get home and test his response." With that, she was gone.

I rubbed my cheek as she walked away. "Almost," I thought. She had taken me by surprise and I almost recovered. I wondered how much preparation Michael did before he set out to score. I bet he imagines numerous possible scenarios and prepares dialogue for each.

The fragrance department was lightly attended so I moved my efforts to the lingerie department. While walking over, I tried to imagine leading, but not offensive, conversation. In the nightwear section, I moved near a conservatively dressed, thirty-something woman. When she examined a short peignoir with crotch less panties, I inhaled sharply, loud enough for her to hear. She looked at me, scowled and walked away.

My eyes followed her down the aisle. She walked by a tall, dark woman with black hair in a ponytail that hung to her shoulders. My heart skipped a beat. She looked exactly like Iona, the woman Michael had described to me. There couldn't be two women that looked like that. It had to be Iona.

As I stared, she looked up and saw me watching. She checked the woman walking by her and then back to me. By that time, my focus had moved from the woman walking to the woman standing. I guess my mouth was open or something because Iona, I knew it had to be her, tilted her head slightly and examined me more intently.

Everything about the situation made me uncomfortable. I didn't know whether to cry, run or just puddle on the floor right there.

She straightened up and began to walk in my direction. Short skirt. Four-inch heels. Perfectly proportioned body. I was helpless. She was even more stunning face on.

"Hi," she said as she approached. "Do I know you?"

"No," I answered, "I don't think so but I'd love to get to know you better."

She laughed, a sound as beautiful as she was. "Is that the best pick up line you have?"

"I don't have any pick up lines. At least none that work," I said.

She laughed again. I could listen to that laugh for eternity. "Tell me, were you staring at that woman walking down the aisle or were you staring at me?"

"Honestly?"

"Is there any other way?"

"I was looking at her but when she passed you I was looking at you."

"Do you always react like that?" she asked as she looked down at my crotch.

I looked down. I was obviously aroused. "Not always. Just under exceptional circumstances."

"Should I be offended or complemented?"

"Definitely complemented."

"You interest me. I'm committed this evening. What are you doing Friday night?"

"Are you suggesting we continue this conversation Friday night?"

"Obviously. You are here make a connection, aren't you? Well, I'm connecting, just not tonight. Are you free?"

"I am."

She took a small notebook out of her purse, wrote an address in it, tore out the page and gave it to me. Come by about six, okay."

"Okay."

"By the way, I'm Iona and you are?"

"Jim."

"Okay, Jim. I have to run. See you Friday," and she walked away.

I began to breathe again as she disappeared around a corner.

I walked back to work. I don't think my feet actually touched the ground.

After work I called Michael. Friday night was our usual hang together time and I needed to cancel. When I told him I couldn't make it Friday night, he said he understood, without an explanation. Odd.

I didn't sleep well for the next two nights. I lived in a fantasy world involving Iona and me, together in every way possible. Friday afternoon, I left work early, went home to shower and dress casually. Full kit. I kept replaying Michael's description and wanted to have enough clothing to make it interesting. I also tried to get myself under control. I couldn't show up reeking of expectation nor could I be so casual I'd seem almost dead.

I took an Uber to the Beacon Court address. I took several deep breaths as I rode up in the elevator to the forty-fourth floor. I centered myself in front of her door, waited seventeen seconds until exactly six o'clock and knocked lightly.

Iona answered the door in short shorts, a tank top without a bra and bare feet. "Jim, hi," she said as she opened the door all the way. "Come in. I was just making something to eat. Do you want to join me?" she asked.

"Sure," I replied. Food wasn't exactly what I hoped to be eating tonight, but, why not, we had all evening.

Iona whipped up some fresh vegetables and shrimp in a wok. She made a production of it, waving unknown bottles of spices and liquids over the steaming food. She served it with a fresh bottle of Twomey Sauvignon Blanc. It was four-star chef delicious. We sat at the counter in her kitchen for a while after the food was gone. About an hour later, the wine was gone too. Iona stood up, cleared the plates and glasses and went into the living room. I followed her lead.

By the time I got there, Iona was leaning over a stereo system at the far end of the living room. She fiddled with the dials for a second and a languid, danceable soft jazz began to fill the space. When she turned around, I had settled on the sofa. She walked over and stood in front of me. "How about dessert?" she asked.

"Sure," I responded.

"I have a number of choices. Do you have a preference?"

"Whatever you're offering."

Iona left for a moment and returned with two old fashioned glasses filled to the rim with ice and what looked to be Baileys Irish Cream. She handed one to me and sat next to me. She held up her glass and I clinked mine against it. "To us," she said as we tasted the silky liquid. Over the next half hour, we emptied the glasses, Iona had shifted closer to me and she was rubbing my thigh with her right hand.

"How about a refill," she asked.

I didn't want her to get up off the sofa. After all things were going in the right direction as far as I was concerned. However, I said, "Sounds good."

Iona refreshed the ice and refilled the glasses. When she returned, she placed them on the cocktail table in front of the sofa, put out her hand and said, "I like this music. Dance with me."

"I can't dance," I said reflexively. "Crap," I thought. "Not dance with this goddess. How stupid can you get?"

"Show me," she said as she reached out, took my hand and led me to the center of the room.

We assumed the position and began to dance. Her movements were slow and languid and I found it easy to follow her. "You're doing fine," she said. After a few minutes, she let go of my right hand and put both arms up and around my neck. My hands naturally fell to her waist and around her hips. She snuggled closer and put her head on my shoulder. I tightened my hold and pulled her body up against mine.

We danced like that for a long time. The music changed twice. I was floating, smelling her hair and feeling her breasts against my chest. She was also moving her hips against mine with the predictable result. I was slowly moving my hands down her back with the intension of holding her cheeks. She was pressed tightly against the bulge in my pants when someone knocked on the door.

"That must be Nin. She's only in town for one day so I invited her over. I hope you don't mind." No, I don't mind. What the hell, my entire fantasy evening just evaporated before my eyes.

Iona went to the door and opened it. She exchanged hugs and kisses with Nin behind the door where I couldn't see and invited her in. The woman who followed Iona into the living room took my breath away. She was about five foot, four with long dark hair hanging to her waist. Her round face, almond eyes, full lips and slender body screamed sensuality. A modified version of my fantasy roared back.

I stood as Iona introduced us and we shook hands. The softness of her small hand set my fantasy on fire. Nin and I settled on the sofa and she noticed the glasses in front of us. Iona asked if she wanted something and, when Nin responded positively, she left to get another serving. While Iona was occupied, I learned that Nin was from Thailand and worked for a mid-west company as a petroleum engineer, a job that took her all over the world and, on occasion, to New York City. When I asked about her name, I learned that Nin was Thai for sapphire, which explained the saturated blue wraparound dress she was wearing.

I was relieved when Iona returned with Nin's drink before she could ask me any questions. I was pretty sure that nothing I could say would impress this woman and I was better off not trying.

Iona sat on my other side. We sipped our drinks for a moment when Nin commented positively on the music. Iona nodded in agreement and said, "Why don't you dance with Jim? I'm sure he's up for it."

Nin agreed. "Good idea." She stood and took my hand. I was up but not necessarily for dancing. We went to the center of the room. Nin immediately put her arms up and around my neck and began to shift slowly side to side. I put my arms around her hips and shifted with her. Soon Nin was tightly against me where Iona had been just several minutes earlier, and I was holding her ass and pulling her tighter against me.

We danced for a while. When the music changed, Iona got up and came up behind me. She put her arms around my hips and pressed her body against my back. I was trying not to breathe too heavily. I was dancing with two women pressing their breasts and other things, against my body. Even my fantasy hadn't gone this far.

When the music ended, we formed a small triangle in the center of the room. Iona leaned toward me and kissed me on the lips. She then leaned toward Nin and kissed her as well. Finally, Nin leaned in and kissed me. Iona stood back a short distance and took Nin's hand. She held it up over her head and Nin did a pirouette. Iona then reached out and pulled the sash of Nin's dress until it came undone and the dress fell open, hanging from Nin's shoulders. She was wearing nothing underneath. I couldn't see her breasts but I couldn't ignore her completely shaven pudenda. Iona held Nin's hand over her head again and Nin turned around again, this time more slowly. Even so, her dress flared and I got a peek at her small, perfectly matched breasts with their lightly colored areolas and even lighter nipples.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" asked Iona.

"Incredibly beautiful," I managed to breathe out.

"Tonight you're the luckiest guy in New York," Iona said as she pushed me back on the sofa. "Sit there while we unwrap your gifts."

Unwrapping my "gifts" took longer than I wished. In my experience, gifts were torn open, destroying the wrapping to get to the prize inside as quickly as possible. Iona and Nin danced together an agonizingly long time before Nin put her hands on Iona's back under her tank top and began to lift it slowly. It caught on Iona's breasts as she pulled it up and she moved her hands around to free it. In the process, she fondled Iona's breasts with both hands and the distraction delayed removal of the tank top by several minutes. Eventually, the top came free of Iona's breasts and Nin pulled it over Iona's head. While I looked at the dark breasts hungrily, Nin feasted on them. She held them up, kissed, licked and sucked on each of them before holding them up for me to see clearly. You can't imagine how much I appreciated the effort.

Iona turned Nin to face me and got behind her. She placed her hands on Nin's hips and began to move them upward, outside her open dress until she held each breast in a hand over the material. She massaged, squeezed and otherwise handled Nin's breasts until Nin closed her eyes and leaned back against Iona. Iona used her hands to lift the dress at Nin's shoulders. Nin leaned forward and the dress fell off her arms and onto the floor between them. Iona continued her treatment of the nude Nin's breasts, all the time watching my reaction.

I spent most of the time staring, licking my lips and shifting in my seat for comfort. When she was satisfied she had my full attention, she allowed Nin to move behind her. Nin reached around Iona's waist and undid the button and zipper on her shorts. Once prepared, she wasted no time and pulled Iona's shorts aggressively to the floor where Iona stepped out of them.

Like Nin, Iona wore nothing underneath. I absorbed her perfectly trimmed triangle of short hair pointing to a light colored slit between darker, puffy lips. The women spent the next ten minutes admiring and touching each other's bodies until they were both obviously warmed up. I wanted to rush up to them and put my hands, and mouth, everywhere they put their hands and mouths, but I sensed self-control was the better option, so I stiffened my resolve while everything else took care of itself.

Iona came over to the table in front of the sofa and picked up one of the glasses of Baileys. She took it back to Nin, dipped two fingers in the cold liquid and ran them around one of Nin's nipples. Nin's nipple quickly responded and hardened perceptually. Iona licked and sucked it dry and repeated the action on Nin's other nipple. When she was done, she offered the glass to Nin who treated Iona's nipples identically.

I thought for a while, they had forgotten about me. I hadn't forgotten about them. They fascinated me and I watched intently. Iona noticed. She moved in front of me and helped me off the sofa while Nin put the glass of Baileys back on the table. She walked me to a spot between them. I stood, happier than I've ever been, between two beautiful, absolutely naked ladies and I knew I was next. Even with the extra underwear I now wished I hadn't bothered with, it didn't take long. Iona tried to slow the process but Nin was determined. Within three minutes, I was as bare as they were.

Iona went to the table and returned with the glass of Baileys. She handed it to me. Following her example, I dipped two fingers into the liquid, painted one of Nin's nipples and carefully cleaned it with my tongue and lips. I did the same for Nin's other nipple and both of Iona's.

Iona began to kiss me and stroke my chest while Nin dropped to her knees and began to pleasure me with her mouth and both hands. Iona knelt beside her and held and squeezed my balls while Nin attacked my erect cock. "Ladies," I croaked, "this is not going to last much longer and I'm going to spill the Baileys as well."

"Perfect," said Iona as she took the glass from my hand and put it on the floor while Nin redoubled her efforts. I was wrong. It wasn't "much longer" it was much shorter. Nin drained me for what I hoped wasn't the first time. Iona helped her clean me up using her tongue and lips alongside Nin's. When she was satisfied, Iona led both of us to the bedroom.

Together, we tossed the half dozen pillows on the floor and stripped the covers off the bed. Nin started to climb onto the bed but I stopped her when she was in front of me on her knees. I held her hips steady as I began to kiss and lick the space between her legs. She moaned softly and spread her legs wide for me. Behind me, Iona was trying to restore my erection without much success.

Nin turned over and holding her ankles in both hands, encouraged me to further stimulate her. I latched onto her clitoris with my lips and rubbed between her labia with my fingers. The result was good for both of us and satisfied Iona. She stood up, moving my restored erection with her, put it between the lips of Nin's vagina and pushed me into her. At first, I worried that Nin's small opening was going to resist and I might actually hurt her but slowly I sank completely into her. Somehow she relaxed but remained tightly around me. I'd never felt a tighter or more welcoming vagina. I moved slowly at first but Nin encouraged me to go faster and harder. I did and she did. Meanwhile, Iona was playing with both our asses. When she pushed a finger into my ass, I reacted by lurching forward deeper into Nin. Nin reacted by pushing back just as hard. Iona's finger in her ass caused her to lurch upward forcing me deeper into her again.