Sex in Store

Lisa had searched a dozen stores for the look-at-me dress she wanted and had found nothing. Finally, she ventured into the city's oldest fashion retailer, an upmarket place which she usually found too staid for her exuberant taste. To her surprise, she saw a dress that looked like it had been designed for the red carpet at an awards show. Slinky, figure-hugging, revealing. The very thing.

She rushed with it into the store's newly-refurbished changing area. There were rows of cubicles to the left and right. Which way to go? All the cubicles looked occupied and there was no assistant on duty to ask. Then she saw a door at the far end was ajar. She hurried towards it, pushed the door open with a thrust of her neat butt and went in, rear first. She latched the door closed, and turned round.

There was a man in the cubicle.

He was wearing nothing but underpants.

Lisa gasped in shock. The dress fell from her hands on to the floor between them.

The man had a surprised half smile on his lips.

"I guess I forgot to lock the door," he said. "They re-vamped this area last fall. Unisex and all that. Men to the left as you come in, women to the right." He grinned, and his cool, rich-as-wine, ultra-deep voice sent shivers through Lisa.

"Sorry," Lisa managed to say. "I didn't know."

"Don't matter to me," the man said, with a genial smile.

For five seconds, both stood still. The man noted Lisa made no move to leave. And this excited him.

Lisa noted the man was unembarrassed about being half naked. This excited her.

The man studied Lisa. Her body was trim, compact, well-maintained. Her hairdresser, manicurist and trainer had worked well. There were gleaming crimson nails, and lipstick to match. She wore a stylish, wrap-over dress in a silky emerald which outlined, clearly and invitingly, two perfectly-shaped breasts. Divorcee who'd made a killing, he guessed.

Lisa studied the man. He was about her age, tall, slim, muscular, and likewise well-maintained, with sharp cheek bones, and roguishly sparkling eyes. His dress shirt and coat hanging on a hook screamed class and personal tailoring. Single, old money, she thought.

"Shall I pick up your dress?" he said, rousing Lisa from admiring his body.

"No. Let me." She sprang forward, knelt down on the floor - and found her face only inches from the man's groin. His underpants were black. Tight. Trunks, not briefs. The shape of his dick and balls showed clearly through the stretchy material. Even at rest, and under the fabric, his dick looked magnificent. Huge. Lisa had never seen a cock so big. Her dress was forgotten.

He looked down at her. "My name's Clark, by the way. Are you... um...Enjoying the view?"

She scrambled to her feet, light-headed, entranced. "Sorry...I..." she turned, clutching her dress, and tried to unfasten the door to leave. Her fingers slipped on the catch.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "Admiring a person's body." He paused a beat. "And the admiration is mutual."

Lisa turned back to him, swallowed, and felt her heart thumping. It was a while since a man had come on to her.

"Aren't you going to try on the dress?" he said. "That's why we're both here." He held up a pair of pants on their store hanger.

Lisa saw curly black hair trailing down from his chest in a thin line and disappearing beneath his underpants. She'd like to see beneath his underpants. To see his outsize dick. To feel it inside her, throbbing and pulsing as he came. She'd almost forgotten what it was like. Before the divorce, sex had been sporadic and unsatisfying, after it, non-existent. She was getting aroused, feeling hot, and wondering, if she took her clothes off to change, what might happen next? It was too awesome to think about.

"Best underwear on?" he said with a smile.

She grinned back, nodding. It was a habit whenever she went to buy clothes.

Her heart was beating faster as she turned away from him, unfastened her dress and slipped it off. She was facing a mirror and, in it, she watched as Clark took the pants off their hanger to try them on. His butt was tight and trim. Boxy. Like an athlete's. Like a classic Greek sculpture. If his dick was out of this world, his butt wasn't far behind. Another surge of heat rushed through her.

As she stepped into the dress, she saw Clark turn and look at her. Their eyes met, and he didn't look away. She got the impression he wanted to know he was interested in her. Well, that was OK.

She examined the dress in the mirror. It was made of a delicate, sheer material, was low-cut, with a long, daring split to one side, and was exceptionally tight, cleaving to her body like a second skin.

"Beautiful," Clark said. "Not everyone could wear a dress like that."

"Thank you. The dress is great, except..." She pointed to the top of her bra which showed under the plunging neckline. "I need a bra cut even lower."

He stepped over and stood behind her, their eyes meeting in the mirror. "Or maybe, no bra at all?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, and held his gaze.

"With a dress that tight, made of such fine fabric, whatever bra or panties you wear, their outlines will show."

She looked at his twinkling eyes, his firm lips. He was so close behind her she could feel the heat from his body. Was he as aroused as she was? Her breathing was deeper and faster, blood was rushing round her body, rushing between her legs. She felt desire mounting and the urgent tingling in her groin made her take a step back.

And she bumped into Clark. Or rather, into his dick. It was unmistakeably his dick and it was hard.

Clark stepped away and removed the pants he had tried on. Lisa stared again at the tight, black underpants, now struggling to contain his huge and growing dick. He came close behind her and his deep bass voice breathed softly into her ear.

"May I unzip you?"

The dress fell away to her waist, exposing a half-cup bra with pale yellow polka-dots. Lisa's nipples were jutting strongly through the fabric.

"Pretty underwear," he said. "And I see you're excited. As I am."

While their eyes stayed locked together in the mirror, he unclipped the bra. His flesh was soft, his touch gentle. He eased the straps off her shoulders, the bra slid down her arms. He gathered it from her, and his hand brushed against a breast, his palm glancing against the stiff nipple. She gave a little gasp of pleasure.

His hand returned to the breast. And his other hand to the opposite one. Thumbs and fingers caressed her.

"Oh...," she murmured. "Oh, ooh. That's lovely." She writhed against him, her head leaning back against his shoulder. Her hand slipped behind her and felt for his cock. It was iron-hard, and bulging. So big! Whoever this man was, she wanted him.

His hands left her breasts and zipped the dress up again.

They stood, side by side, looking into the mirror. "Even more beautiful," he said. He ran his hands down the outside of the dress, then up again. The fabric was so filmy he could almost feel the pores of Lisa's skin through it. His fingers traced the line of her cleavage, now unfettered by underwear, then they slipped between the long split and slid under the fabric right up her leg to the top of her thigh.

She gasped as his fingers reached to the bottom edge of her panties, to within an inch of her damp centre. She turned and saw his cock standing out, thick, horizontal, and enormously long, forcing the underpants away from his body.

She had touched it. And now she wanted it. Here. At once.

She was hot, breathing fast. The sensation between her legs had grown from a tingle to a pulsing, to a throbbing, to an ache. She found it difficult to stand still, and moved from foot to foot, feeling an overwhelming need for sex. If he didn't do something soon, she would burst with desire.

"My panties," she said. "They should come off."

He looked at her in surprise. And with delight.

"As you said... Any underwear will show... There'll be a line..." Before he could answer, she was rolling up the hem of the tight dress, and tugging down her wet, polka dot panties.

In an empty administrative office, two floors above the fashion sales floor, a desk telephone was ringing unanswered.

Then the door crashed open, and a woman of 30, dressed for a formal occasion, rushed in and grabbed the phone. "Celine Delgardo.... Yes, I've only just got in. I was at a funeral... No, that's fine, a very old relative... What's the trouble?" She listened, and couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you sure?... Do you want me to come down?... On my way."

As Celine reached the sales floor, she noticed the in-house music system was playing louder than usual. Then, at the entrance to the unisex fitting rooms, she saw a sign which said they were temporarily closed.

Holly, the department manager who'd called Celine, appeared.

"Is it true? A couple really are having sex in a changing booth? Are you sure?"

"Come and listen," said Holly. Celine followed her inside the changing area to within a few feet of the cubicle inside which where Lisa and Clark.

Panting and moaning sounds from Lisa, and a rhythmic creaking from a chair or other piece of furniture made it crystal clear what was happening.

"I turned up the music," Holly whispered.

"You did right," said Celine. "And closing the area. You'd better find security."

"Sure. And I called Mr Jack Comfrey, too."

It took Celine a moment to register the name. "Oh. The new guy. Assistant General Manager."

Holly nodded towards the cubicle where the sounds still continued. "Embarrassing isn't it?" Holly moved away, leaving Celine alone.

Celine wasn't embarrassed. Instead she felt an urge to stay and listen. She wasn't a voyeur. Yet she found the sounds compelling. And erotic.

What position were the couple using in the tiny space? The creaks suggested a chair was involved, the woman straddling the man.

"Mmm, mmm..." came from inside the cubicle.

Celine felt a rush of heat through her body.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm..."

Celine was rooted to the spot.

"Oh, oh, oh..."

Celine felt a tingle between her legs.

"Oh, oh, oh..."

The moans and panting increased in frequency and volume, and Celine's arousal increased along with them.

"Ah, ah, ah..."

Several minutes had passed since the phone call. The man had staying power alright.

"Oh...oh...oh..."

Celine fantasised she was the one having sex She imagined herself in the cubicle, sitting astride the unknown man, feeling the thrusts of his cock deep inside her, enjoying his stamina.

"Ah, ah, ah..."

Celine was feeling hot, her breathing was rapid, her nipples were hardening. She felt dampness between her legs. The moans from the cubicle were speeding up, her arousal was growing with them. She was tempted to slip a hand under her skirt.

"Oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, yes...! Oooooohh..." As Lisa climaxed, there were footsteps behind Celine, and she turned to see a man of her own age approaching.

"Celine? Hi, I'm Jack. Jack Comfrey."

"Hi," Celine said, shaking his hand, and looking him straight in the eye. He was stunningly attractive.

Jack smiled back at Celine. "I heard something strange was going on..."

"I think it's pretty much all over now, and Security are on the way," she said.

"Can you fill me in?"

"Of course." Celine led the way out of the changing area, and found a quiet corner. Celine kept her voice to a tense whisper, which drew Jack close to her. She spoke fast, expressively, and with animation, holding Jack's eyes. From time to time her tongue touched her top lip as she sought a word or phrase. Jack watched her glossy, story-telling lips, her wide, sparkling green eyes, and was rivetted by her graphic - and explicit - description of what she'd heard.

Recounting events to this handsome man, who had edged even closer to her and was hanging on her every word, rekindled the heat she'd felt in the fitting room area. As she talked, she tried to cool herself by unbuttoning the coat of her black skirt suit. She flapped the fabric a couple of times, and pinned the coat back by placing her hands on her hips. Jack could now appreciate the curve of her breasts, snug and tight behind her white blouse. Then his eyes roamed lower. Slim waist, short black skirt, long and slender legs in black pantyhose. Celine was aware of Jack's darting gaze and, as she spoke, she checked him out too. High cheek-bones, dark hair, powerful upper body, trim waist, six-foot-something. Unlike some men who huddled in their suits like it was prison garb, Jack wore his with authority. The fit and cut were perfect. His blue eyes were vibrant, and his face was emotive, reacting to what Celine said with a head raise, a twitch of an eyebrow, or a tiny movement of his lips.

All the while, Celine twisted a finger round a strand of hair. Her hair was long, below shoulder-length, and had a sensuous natural curl. Jack watched her fingers like a hypnotist's subject watches a swinging light. Mesmerised, he calculated that if Celine was naked, her hair would reach to just above her nipples. For a moment, he imagined brushing her hair aside to find her naked breasts. The result was an immediate hard-on.

"You didn't see them doing it?" Jack said, trying to be business-like.

"No. And there's no CCTV in that area."

"Of course not."

Holly, the department manager returned with security staff. "Shall we carry on upstairs?" said Jack, wanting to get to know Celine better.

"My office?" said Celine, happy to stay with the handsome new guy for as long as she could.

Walking up the stairs behind her, Jack watched her trim ass, the way it swayed from side to side, and the shimmering pantyhose under her short skirt. As she walked, Celine was all too aware that her earlier arousal had not dissipated. Jack's arrival had increased it.

In her office, Celine waved Jack to a chair, pulled off her suit jacket, flung it on to a sofa and sat opposite him.

"It was warm in that changing area," he said with an inscrutable smile.

"Yes," she said.

"Listening to a couple having sex. It's arousing, isn't it?"

Celine quirked a surprised eyebrow.

He smiled. "I was in a hotel room once. On my own. A couple in the next room were having sex like the world was about to end."

Celine looked at him, her eyes wide. "What did you do?"

"I got some tissues and jerked off, of course." He grinned at Celine.

Celine imagined his dick, hard, horizontal, and him rubbing it. Her eyes drifted down to his groin where his pants were tight, and a fresh wave of arousal swept over her. She found herself talking about when she was nineteen. "I was hiking a mountain trail and looked down into a field below the trail, where there was a boy my age. His back was to me and I thought he was having a pee. Then I realised he was stroking his dick."

"You watched?"

"I couldn't take my eyes off him. Or rather his cock. When he came, it jetted up in an arc, ever so high. I'd never seen that before." She gazed at Jack's face, and played again with a strand of her hair.

"And then?"

Celine nodded. "I found a flat rock to sit on, undid my shorts..."

"And did the same as me in the hotel." Jack smiled his charming smile again.

Celine grinned back, and felt her arousal climb to a new height as she remembered the big orgasm she'd had then. Just what she wanted now.

Jack smiled. "It was good, but better with someone else, right? Like reading a steamy novel. Ever done that in bed with someone?"

"No, but it sounds a cool idea." She paused briefly. "Once I saw a film with a man I was dating. Erotic, not porn. We were both really turned on. And... well, we couldn't wait to get home. We climbed over the fence of a public park."

"Sex on the lawn?" said Jack. "I like doing it alfresco." His eyes drifted down to where, below the hem of her skirt, several inches of thigh were visible, encased in the shiny black nylon. He imagined having sex in a park with Celene. She was hot alright and his dick had hardened rapidly. So much so, he had to change position on his chair and shift forwards, towards Celine. As he did so, he caught a tang of her scent - spicy and fruity - and felt the aura of heat emanating from her body. His erection hardened further and he was compelled to moved his legs apart.

As he changed position, Celine saw the shape of his erect dick outlined under his pants. An intense blast of heat run through her, and the sensation between her legs grew alarming in intensity. She crossed her legs. Then crossed them back the other way. She squirmed in her chair, then she started to wiggle and bounce her top leg. Up and down.

Jack then told a story of how once, in Europe, he'd had sex in the sleeping car of a train as it sped through the night.

His story heightened her arousal further. She imagined leaning back naked against the train window, as Jack eased his dick inside her, with the swaying, jogging and bouncing of the train adding to the intensity of her orgasm.

"What sort of noise were they making?" said Jack, leaning forwards in his chair, within touching distance of her crossed knees, gazing at her breasts.

"She was going like... 'Mmm, mmm, mmm.' Then it was 'oh, oh, oh.'"

Jack's mouth opened a little, the pink tip of his tongue between his perfect teeth. "What kind of sounds do you make?" he said.

She flicked up an eyebrow in a tantalising way. "Depends on... who I'm with."

"I get good reports," Jack said, grinning again.

Her hand went back to playing with her hair. Then her hand moved from hair to blouse. Her fingers slid up and down along the buttons, then twirled around the top button.

Now both were as horny as each other and, gazing at each other with longing, they exchanged more stories about sexual encounters. Intoxicated by desire, they embellished the tales, and their own sexual daring, which heightened their levels of arousal. As they talked, Jack watched her fingers with fascination. So near her shapely breasts. Her hand moved away and the top button came undone. The hand moved down to play with the next button, after a few moments, that button came undone too.

Jack could see the slope of her right breast and the feathery, lacy fringe of a pale blue bra.

Reacting to Jack's tales, the tingle between Celine's legs became a throbbing. She could no longer sit still and wriggled in her seat trying to control the urge she felt.

Celine's squirming had uncovered more of the pale blue bra. Jack saw it was a delicate triangle shape, and a nipple, hard and erect, pressed through the dead centre of the thin, silky material. Celine's movements had also shifted her skirt so far up her thighs Jack could see her pantyhose was not pantyhose, but hold-up stockings. He felt a strong pull in his groin, as his dick struggled to exert itself under the tight pants. He watched Celine's foot bouncing up and down, her heeled shoe dangling provocatively from her foot.

"Should we do something other than tell old stories?" he murmured. "You're even more turned on now than you were on the retail floor."

Celine raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You've undone your blouse. And your nipples are bursting through your bra."

She smiled. "And you've got a colossal erection."

"Because of you." He smiled. "Would you like to feel it."

She gulped, said nothing, but her wide glistening eyes gave Jack her answer. He leaned forward, took one of her hands and placed it on his engorged dick. She gasped with delight to feel its size and began to massage it. Jack breathed in sharply.

"Want to feel how wet I am?" she whispered. Not waiting for a response, she uncrossed her legs and opened them wide, then took one of his hands and slid it along the slick nylon covering her thighs. She guided his hand under her skirt, over the short expanse of hot flesh where the hold-ups ended, to where her tiny panties were soaked, and she was wide open.