The Best Lingerie Salesperson

It just wasn't working out for me. I shuffled through the underwear drawers at the store, my disappointment mounting. Every single one had been looked through. A mass of jumbled pink, red, beige and black lace lay in front of me, but not one was in my size.

Suddenly I heard a "beep" behind me.

I jumped.

"There may be more in the back," he said, looking a bit startled himself.

The first thing I noticed about him was that he didn't fit in that store. Even wearing the dark signature uniform, he didn't look like he worked there. He was either in his late thirties or early forties and built like a tree. The yellow scanner gun seemed odd in his muscular hands, like a toy. His sleeves weren't doing much to hide the veins running down the length of his arms. His chest stuck out, the shirt just a tad too tight.

That was when I was reminded how long it had been since my last orgasm.

I shifted my weight and cleared my throat, reminding myself not to stare. "Um-"

He looked away, but not before sweeping a glance down the length of me, lingering a moment too long on my breasts. I felt the sheer fabric underneath my T-shirt stretch as my nipples hardened, threatening to push through the flimsy white cotton.

"Can you help this customer?" he called to someone.

But apparently, the answer was no, because under the fluorescent lights, he walked back toward me. I took in an eyeful of his easy gait, the way his shoulders moved, taking the rest of his body languidly after. I allowed myself an eyeful of his bulge, restrained by his jeans...

Suddenly, he was next to me. I straightened up, covering up my arousal with false bravado. I was horny as fuck and really, really should have masturbated this morning. My shower had been hurried and I regretted it now as I struggled to keep my breath calm and my hands to myself.

I could smell him, the sweet musky, deliciousness under his arms. I took a surreptitious whiff and my knees almost buckled. The familiar moistness was beginning.

He was talking. I forced myself to pay attention to his words but his lips distracted me. And holy fuck, his tongue.

"...got a new shipment," he was saying. "There are more in the back. I can take you to them."

He licked his lips and looked away as he talked.

"Please," I managed.

"Okay, follow me." He seemed nonchalant, but something told me a current had passed between us. I gulped and nodded, walking two steps behind him, trying not to look at the hard outline of his buttocks inside his jeans.

He led me to the far non-gendered dressing room meant for families and pointed to a box of panties on the floor.

"I'm afraid because they're not tagged and there's no attendant here today, I have to wait out here while you try them on. Be sure to try them on top of the underwear you already have on," he said.

I was tempted to tell him I wasn't wearing any panties and his lip licking was making me slick enough to lose my footing on the way into the room, but I resisted. Instead, I bent over in front of him into the box, giving him an eyeful under my sundress. I grabbed three blindly and made my way inside, making a big show of locking the room.

It was then that I breathed, a deep, heady breath, as my fingers made their way almost unknowingly into the folds of my pussy, finding the clit immediately. A gasp escaped me.

"Everything all right in there?" he called.

"Well, not quite," I said. It was now or never. I reached for one of the panties and put them on. "It pulls a little. Maybe... maybe a different size, or..."

I opened the door a slit. There was no one else around as far as I could tell. That was good enough for me.

"Let me show you," I said, looking into his dark eyes for the first time. He held my gaze and I saw a glint there.

He looked away and licked his lips in the way I had understood to be his signature move, and came in, closing the door and locking it behind him.

Here he was, finally. All six feet of hunk, close enough for me to see a single drop of sweat on his neck. We were surrounded by mirrors on all sides. I put my heeled foot on the bench separating us.

"May I?" I said, reaching for his hand, not waiting for a response and putting it on my mound. "See?"

At first, he just let it stay there, letting the heat build inside me. His eyes remained locked on mine. Every nerve in me tensed. The only movement I detected was his jaw clenching and unclenching. I had to open my mouth to breathe.

And then his forefinger come to life.

"The thing is," he said, running it softly over the thong, the center and then the edges, hooking it in gingerly, caressing the fabric with the pad of his finger and my pussy lips with the back, "some lingerie tends to do that. Perhaps you'd like to try a different one?"

"Or maybe you can adjust it?" I ventured.

"Maybe," he said. With his gaze still fixed on me, his middle finger found its way inside the thong. "Some women," he continued, "have some extra folds that need special care." His fingers were smooth, steady as he caressed my outside lips, hinting at heading farther in, teasing, taunting.

"Hmm," I said. He still hadn't broken eye contact.

"What you need," he continued, only the hoarseness in his voice giving away his desire, "is lingerie that protects you all around."

He drew out the "all" and as he said the word, he ran his fingers from the top of my mound all the way down until his hand reached my ass. He hovered above my ass hole for a good long time. My clit throbbed. It was my turn to lick my lips.

"Would you mind if I took a closer look?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

He went down on his knees and opened my legs farther apart. A moan escaped me.

With his left hand he moved the thong aside. With his right, he began his examination.

"This is the part you really want to keep covered," he said, touching my clitoris delicately. His voice was professional, but there was nothing official about his touch. His fingers goaded and probed, first the outer lips and then slowly, oh, so slowly, the inner, coaxing more and more moisture out and spreading it around.

I could see the strings of my pussy juice on his fingers. I knew I was close. I was beginning to shake, my legs beginning to give way.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps. I tensed, but he raised a finger to his lips. The footsteps came closer, heels echoing on the concrete floor.

"Lie down on the bench," he whispered. I did as I was told as quietly as possible.

"Someone in here?" a voice called.

I had to say something.

"Yeah, just trying out some clo-"

That was when he entered me. Silent, quick as lightning, he filled me up. I noticed he hadn't even taken off his pants, just opened his zipper.

I lost the use of my voice.

"What?" the voice outside said.

His thumb was now on my clit as his hard, thick cock slipped in and out, in and out of me.

"I... oh, oh, I... I'll be right out."

"Okay, just checking, you know, don't want to lock you in here." The voice muttered on, moving something around, a mop bucket, perhaps, but I couldn't pay any more attention. I was glad whoever it was out there was making noise, too, because in the dressing room were other sounds - the slick sounds of sex, his breathing and mine. We were matching the sloshy sounds of mopping outside the door with our own wet noises.

He had his hands on my thighs, spreading them, the thong was pushed to the side and he was pumping in and out of me. It was exquisite. And the mirrors all around gave me the perfect view from all around. His member, hard, pink, covered in my juices, the perfect girth for me...

I was going to cum, so I pulled him into me. I can't cum quietly.

"Oh, don't stop, don't stop, don't!" I whispered urgently in his ear. "Oh, fuck me, fuck, fuck me. Hard. Oh, oh, oh..." I couldn't hold it in any more. "Oh fuuuuuucccckkkk!" I moaned into his shoulder as I came, harder than I ever had, muffling my voice with his shirt.

He pulled out then, and as I watched, he stroked his cock faster and faster until he too, needing something to muffle his moans, slapped the thong I hadn't yet tried on over his mouth as he erupted gloriously all over my stomach.

"Guess I'm buying that lingerie, then?" I whispered, satisfied. "Is that why they keep you around then? You're a good lingerie salesperson."

"One of the best," he whispered back, zipping up.