tagExhibitionist & VoyeurPleasure in Public & Private

Pleasure in Public & Private


This is a part of the original draft of my much longer story Pleasure In Control that never made it into the final version. I thought I'd share it with you anyway. It makes more sense if you have already read the full story. It originally appeared in Chapter 13 after my 'scissors' encounter in the store with Stevie, where I wrote "I spent the next 2 days in the provinces" - this is what I did when I was there!


I had to be at Passionella's headquarters offices at 7:30 on the following Monday morning to supervise the start of work on the 'Black' Private Room. Once there I held a site meeting with the designers and craftswomen and finalised the order in which the work would take place, congratulating myself on my decision to only use female contractors. They were so easy to work with, very helpful and obliging and able to work together as a team. Satisfied that everyone knew what they were doing, I collected my car from the underground car-park and drove up to York, arriving mid-afternoon.

I'd been a little surprised to find Danielle on Linda's list of Dems (store demonstrators) to be the subject of my latest 'mystery shopping', or more precisely 'mystery fucking' exploits. She was quite new to Passionella, but I'd found her to be almost the perfect employee when we met in my hotel fitness centre, demonstrating a balance between polite maturity and fun-loving extroversion. I also found her to be incredibly sexy.

I remembered that Linda had spent some time at her York outlet during her 'back to the floor' week, so maybe she had seen another side to her. But I wasn't complaining as I drove into the shopping centre car-park on my way to putting her to the test.

Danielle was very smartly dressed in a white shirt and corporate burgundy sensible skirt; she didn't recognise me at first but I proffered my Passionella store-card and she remembered my name, smiling knowingly.

"Julia, it's a pleasure to see you again," she said, in a warm and friendly tone. "I haven't seen much of you lately."

"I haven't seen as much of you as I'd like to," I replied, and she immediately picked up on the double-entendre.

"If you'd like to choose something from our latest collection, you can see much more of me. How about these?" Danielle led me to a rail of lingerie in a riot of dusky-pink satin adorned with ribbons and lacing. We chose a front-fastening bra that also had criss-cross lacing at the back, a deep suspender belt with similar Victorian corset-style lacing, and a matching thong. "You'll look terrific in these," she assured me, and continued the seduction theme by suggesting: "Come and try them on, not necessarily in that order."

Behind the locked door of the private Passionella changing room, Danielle immediately became more tactile, smoothing my hair away from my eyes, touching the backs of my hands and helping me to undress.

She wrapped the bra around me and fastened the Passionella logo catch between my boobs. Then, standing behind me, she adjusted the lacing. In effect, the bra had no back at all, just a criss-cross web of silver thong lacing which Danielle pulled tight so my boobs were squeezed against my chest and swelled gorgeously above the tops of the cups. She moved around in front of me and took her time adjusting the cups and deliberately caressing the backs of her hands across the exposed curves of my boobs. "Isn't it always the same?" she asked, rhetorically, "Our bras always look best on the women who don't need them. You have lovely breasts, Julia."

"Thanks, " I replied, "but from memory, yours though smaller are just as beautiful." even though I had never seen them in the flesh, so to speak, but only covered by the sheerest of bikini tops.

"Why trust to your memories of my mammaries," Danielle quipped then apologised for the crass joke, "Here's a reminder."

She started to unbutton her shirt, then motioned for me to help. I released the last few buttons and Danielle pulled open her shirt. Underneath she wore a very pretty bra in a minty green with darker green lace decorations. It lifted her small boobs and pushed them together without trying to create a cleavage - that's not Danielle's style, too cheap.

"Like it?" she asked.

"Yes, is that a new style?" I responded.

"You, Julia, of all people, should know that," she countered. I was unsure what she meant.

Danielle then pulled the bottom of her shirt out of her skirt and slipped it off her shoulders. "Does that jog your memory, or would you like to 'see more of me'?" she suggested. But she did not wait for an answer before reaching behind her back and unclipping her bra, taking it off slowly and seductively to expose her naked breasts to my gaze for the first time. They were truly lovely, two small but perfectly-formed rounded cones spaced wide apart on her chest, without the slightest hint of droop and tipped with perfect small nipples in a dark shade of reddish-brown. I had to summon all my willpower to stop myself from touching them.

"Are they just what you imagined?" she teased, drawing attention to them by placing the palm of her hands on her ribs and forming a curve under them with her thumbs and index fingers to accentuate their shape, just like underwiring!

"No, better, in fact ..."

But before I could continue my compliments, Danielle unbuttoned her skirt and stepped out of it and stopped me in mid-sentence. She was wearing matching brief panties in the same colours that barely covered her pussy mound, together with a complementary suspender belt whose long slender suspenders reached half way down her slim thighs before they met the lace tops of her flesh-colour stockings to which they were attached. The whole ensemble set off her beautiful figure to perfection and I told her so.

Danielle picked up the dusky-pink thong we had brought with us into the luxuriously appointed room and held it so I could step into it. I placed my hand on her warm shoulder to steady myself and she crouched in front of me to pull it up. She spent much longer than necessary adjusting the fit, running her fingertips over my soft flesh, and grazing my pussy with her knuckles through the pink satin. My pussy started to twitch and I felt my juices start to well up inside me and ooze out onto the thin fabric triangle between my legs. From her squatting position in front of me she was sure to smell my musk scent above the heavily perfumed atmosphere that is a characteristic of any Passionella changing room.

Danielle placed her hands on my hips and signalled for me to turn around and face the mirror whilst she wrapped the matching suspender around my hips. She attached the clips then tightened the lacing at the back, pulling it far tighter than was necessary to keep it up.

Finally she helped me into a pair of stockings, similar to her own but in a darker shade, and attached the Passionella logo clasps. I enjoyed the feeling and Danielle took every opportunity to touch my bum and the insides of my legs. She knew she was turning me on, but was I going to complain?

I noticed that Danielle's nipples had tightened into tiny hard points and was not surprised when she placed one of my hands over her breast. She closed her eyes and sighed. "See what your outfit has done to me? I think this is going to be a very popular line at Passionella." she remarked, continuing: "sorry, I may have tightened your bra lacing too much, I didn't mean to hurt you. Here, let me release the pressure." upon which she unclipped the front-fastener and my captive boobs spilled forwards. Danielle sensed the atmosphere perfectly and stepped forward, standing very slightly on tip-toes so she could make slight contact between my nipples and her own.

My buds immediately responded, becoming erect and sensitive. Danielle rocked her upper body up and down, and from side to side, so that our nipples flicked as she broke contact, catching them on the return. The feelings she sent through my breasts were lovely, and I told her so. I had to admit she had followed the new Passionella rules to the letter, taking the lead carefully, one step at a time, then instigating intimate contact when she was sure I was ready. Very clever too; she engineered the situation so it was me who touched her breast first. I'd put that in my report to Linda.

"Lets hit the town!" she exclaimed, excitedly, changing the subject and cutting short our explicit encounter thus dashing any hopes for now of getting my hands inside her panties.

"Please explain," I demanded. She did. Her plan was to keep on our suspenders and dress in short skirts and revealing tops. Then we would stroll around the trendy area of the city and sit outside a couple of café-bars, flashing our thighs and showing our stocking tops and suspenders. I didn't remember that in Linda's new set of rules. Would Danielle still technically be 'on duty'? And would I? Could we be judged by our actions, beyond the common laws of decency? And then what? I still had a promise outstanding from Danielle to join me in my hotel room 'another time'. What better time than the present, or maybe later this evening.

"OK. I'm up for it!" I agreed. It was nearly closing time so we dressed and I paid for my new dusky-pinkies. We agreed to meet in my hotel foyer at 7:00 pm . I would change into a short skirt I'd brought with me whilst Danielle would go home to change into something 'less formal.' My heart was racing as I waved goodbye and Danielle winked back at me.

I checked into my usual hotel and the memory came back to me in graphic detail of the time that Danielle and I spent by the pool. I remembered how she loved to show off her almost-naked body to her onlookers, the sexy way she sat, stood and walked. This evening out on the town was going to be a lot of fun.

In my room I rested and showered. I also shaved all over my body in anticipation of a possible intimate time with Danielle later in the evening and I tidied up my hotel room, something I rarely bother to do as I don't normally expect to bring anyone back with me. But I sensed that tonight might be different.

I wriggled back into my new pink lingerie and slipped on a short skirt with side splits that reached up as far as my suspender. Fortunately I'd brought the perfect top for a night like this. It was cut into a deep plunge at the front so the Logo clasp on my bra was easily visible, and low at the back to show off the silver criss-cross lacing between my shoulder blades. I admired myself in the mirror as I pulled on my stockings and attached them to the long suspender straps. My boobs spilled forwards as I bent down, exposing a pair of firm rounded mounds of flesh. When I stood up straight, my skirt just about covered my stocking-tops. But as soon as a walked a single step, I exposed my stockings, suspenders and a considerable area of naked thigh-flesh. Bending forward was nothing sort of erotic; any casual onlooker would be treated to a tantalising glimpse of suspender-belt and pink-satin-shrouded pussy mound between a pair of gym-taught ass-cheeks. I had to stop myself from lifting the hem of my skirt and touching myself.

My watch showed 6:55. I picked up my bag and sunglasses and nothing else, took a deep breath and walked down the corridor.

5 minutes seems such a long time when you are waiting alone in a hotel foyer with numerous pairs of eyes staring at you, either judging you or mentally undressing you. Every time the sliding doors opened, I hoped it was Danielle. What if she didn't come? She may have changed her mind, or been delayed. What if ...

I looked again and saw sensuality personified breeze into the reception area and head straight for me.

"Hi, Julia. Wow, you look fantastic!" she complimented, planting a big kiss on each cheek. "I'd love to take you home."

Danielle took my breath away. She was wearing a very skimpy top made from pale green silky fabric with threads of metallic fibres running through it. At the front, it covered her breasts and most of her midriff, but as she pirouetted, asking the obvious question "Do you like it?", I could see that the sides and back were virtually non-existent and consisted only of a web of thin straps tied off in bows. The risk that someone would walk up behind her and pull loose the bows only added to the powerful air of provocation, as if the fact that she was obviously not wearing bra was not enough. Not only did the top cling to her small wide-spaced breasts, accentuating their firm, small shape, but her prominent nipples poked directly forward puckering tiny tent-like shapes in the fabric covering them.

"Of course I like it, Danielle." I confirmed. "It looks terrific on you - Less Is More, as they say."

"Great, I didn't want to be over-dressed on a warm night like tonight," she replied.

Trying to be clever, I suggested: "I think it's going to get hotter later."

"Too hot to handle?" she replied.

"We'll have to see," I suggested.

"See what?" Danielle interjected.

"What's under the wrappings."

"Do you like unwrapping presents?" she enquired, adopting an altogether more seductive tone.

"Yes," I stuttered slightly, wondering where this exchange was leading, "especially untying ribbons and bows."

"Do you like to examine a present first, before you untie it? Do you like to try to guess what's inside, by the shape and the weight, and the feel?"

"Yes," I relied again, this time more confidently. "Yes I do. Then I like to unwrap it very slowly and carefully, so not to damage what's inside."

Danielle pouted sensually. "But this present can stand a bit of rough treatment. You don't have to be too careful"

"And I can guess what's inside. The wrapping doesn't hide very much."

"But there might be more inside than you might imagine, especially later this evening," Danielle suggested, half-closing her eyes to add to the mystery.

Danielle was driving me wild with her suggestive questioning. We held eye contact for several seconds before I looked down at her lower half. She was wearing a very tight skirt in supple black leather; it stopped about 15 centimetres above her knees and had a zipper right down the front. She was also wearing sheer tights or stockings and black ankle-boots with high platform soles and spike heels. The smell of leather stimulated my inner most basic feelings; I could have taken her home, too, right there and then.

"Ready?" she quipped, startling me out of my dreamy imaginings.

"Oh, well yes, let's go" I replied, unsure where 'go' actually was, and whether we'd collect £200 when we got there.

Danielle ed the way and we strutted to a waiting taxi. We giggled together in the back and Danielle paid the driver when he dropped us in the city centre square.

Climbing out was a challenge and I exposed my legs and my underwear to a surprised party of Japanese tourists, three of whom took photographs; 'That'll surprise the relations back home', I thought.

Danielle knew a café-bar on a busy street corner and we sat outside enjoying cold beers and savoury nibbles. The sun was shining and we talked about everything from political history to internet music piracy. I was aware of people looking at us, but that was the plan all along. Danielle was very tactile, touching my face and my hair and then adjusting my clothes and running her fingertips over my exposed breasts. Nervously at first, I took her lead and flicked imaginary insects off her cheeks and shoulders then pretended to rub spilt liquid from her top.

A group of young men and girls were sitting at a table on the opposite of the road. Danielle beckoned me to move closer and she whispered to me. She had noticed that the group had stopped talking and were watching us intently; she was going to the loo and would be back soon.

I fiddled with my drink but moments later Danielle reappeared. She moved her chair out from the table and sat half sideways. She had unzipped her skirt almost to the top and she sat down with her legs crossed. She smiled as I looked down to see her stocking tops, her slender green suspenders with their tell-tale Passionella Logo clasps, and the taught smooth flesh of her upper thigh. The party opposite had noticed too and was looking at us from behind their sunglasses and from under peaked caps, hoping not to be noticed.

Not wanting to be left out, I swivelled round on my chair so they could see the top of my leg through the wide split up the side of my skirt. I felt a rush of excitement course through me, and Danielle congratulated me. Becoming more daring, I leaned down to pick up my bag in the certain knowledge that my boobs would present a provocative cleavage to our audience. I also ran my hand along Danielle's exposed leg, as though I was smoothing out wrinkles in her stockings.

Danielle responded by uncrossing and re-crossing her legs, slowly and deliberately so as to flash the green satin covered triangle of her panties to our furtive observers. This elicited a murmur of excitement from the group and Danielle announced it was time to move on.

As we walked hand in hand through the city, the front of Danielle's leather skirt flapped with each step, exposing thighs, suspenders, stockings and occasionally her lingerie. Taking her lead, I deliberately took long strides so my skirt gaped at the sides with a similar effect. Doormen outside clubs and exclusive bars virtually grabbed us in off he street to try to get us to patronise their establishments, but they were far more patronising that evening than we were.

We ate outside another bar but were frustrated to find that the only free table was in a corner where we could not be seen. But at least we could not be heard. Our conversation became more explicit and more intimate as we shared our ideas and experiences on seduction, female relationships, and masturbation.

Danielle confessed to being bi-sexual and explained how she found women to be altogether more attractive, more caring and more sensual than men. She had joined Passionella to meet sophisticated women who like to show off their bodies as much as she does.

"Danielle," I suggested, "I don't think any woman likes to show off her body more than you do." I'd concluded that, above all else, she was an exhibitionist, with a leg fetish on the side.

"You'd be surprised, I know several. I think you know some of them." she asserted. I feared that we were delving too deep into the Passionella organisation but fortunately the waiter interrupted us with our bill.

We hailed a taxi and sat in silence in the back. I paid this time, and took Danielle's hand to help her out as she tried to keep her knees together. We'd had a super time, showing off in public, but I hoped for some privacy together.

"Fancy a coffee?" I asked.

"Oldest chat-up line in the book" she replied wryly.

"Is that a yes?"

Danielle declined: "No, no coffee for me thanks ...". I was disappointed.

" ... but if you're inviting me back to your room then it's a yes, very definitely a Yes." and she planted a huge, long, passionate kiss on my lips and poked her tongue under mine. My pussy responded and I pressed my body against hers, right there in the hotel foyer.

Upstairs we virtually fell into my room and I kicked the door closed behind us. We kissed again, more passionately this time, and I placed my hands firmly on Danielle's bum cheeks, savouring the feel of the soft leather under my eager fingertips. She got the message and un-buttoned my skirt then pulled it down over my hips. I jammed my crotch urgently onto Danielle's thigh and rubbed my pussy against the leather of her skirt, feeling its texture against my naked inner thighs. I was feeling so hot for her and my pussy flooded with lube as we entwined our limbs around each other.

"Oh, Danielle, you're gorgeous," I panted. "You're making me feel so sexed up I'm just don't know what to do first."

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byjulie_julia© 5 comments/ 65101 views/ 8 favorites

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