Better Ch. 03byMsQuote©
There'a a spirit about Andrea that's fun and slightly subversive. She brings out a side of me that I never get to show or feel when I'm tasked to do the job of keeping a nationwide bank robust and profitable, especially in the most challenging times; when I have to put on the face of prosperity and propriety at board meetings and cocktail events. It's all an act and that has served me well in my career and in my marriage with my wife who's the proper corporate wife -- the frosted bob, the bright and shiny lipsticked smile that went off on cue whenever we went out to social events, and had a straight and rigid posture that suited her well in couture dresses. She played the part well, scripted and robotic, just like our lovemaking.
But I wanted and needed someone I could share inappropriate laughs over the silliest things, a sense of excitement that goes with breaking the rules.
I thought the time Andrea and I spent at the photography retreat was just a one-time deal until we kept in touch over email, text and phone. She became more open about her feelings, her sexuality, and I just had to have her again and again. She brought out this side of me that's so alive, even if I knew I had to keep under wraps the moment I come back to my office and home.
And what could be said about a woman who could make me come twice after a red eye flight across the country? When most people would have been achy and tired after not being able to sleep on a plane, I was so wound up to see her, knowing I could take on whatever she had waiting for me at full press court. And, yes, the trench coat thing with her leaning up against her car was a bit clichéd but absolutely hot. She knew how to work it by leaning up against the car door with one leg leaning back a step down from the curb, arms crossed under and around the most sensuous set of tits I've ever had my hands and mouth on. How many men get that kind of reception from a woman, especially one as hot on the outside and inside as Andrea?
We could have spent the time and had just as much fun holing up at her place sitting on pillows on her floor in front of her coffee table, feeding ourselves fondue and polishing it off with a bottle of Trader Joe's best Pinot Grigot -- naked. But I wanted to sweep her away unexpectedly and take her out shopping to buy things for the next few days to wear to places she didn't expect to go. It was excitement I could easily afford and felt Andrea deserved and would definitely appreciate.
I took her to some chi-chi boutiques that were within walking distance from the hotel. She asked me what she should be looking for. I told her something she could wear for oysters and champagne in the lobby bar before heading downtown to see Madeleine Peyroux in concert that evening.
"You're kidding!" she exclaimed.
"You told me you wanted to see her a month or two ago, and I got the tickets," I said. She threw her arms around me as I spotted a royal blue trapeze dress that would show off her shoulders and drive me crazy all night thinking of what the rest of her looked like underneath.
She slipped into the dressing room and then motioned me to come inside after she had the dress on. It looked as good on her as I imagined with the flowing fabric draping off the curves of her breasts, hips and ass.
"What do you think?" she asked coquettishly.
I slid my hand under the hem of the dress, slipped my finger under her panties to feel her moistening slit, and whispered in her ear, "Just don't wear the panties," as I pulled my finger away.
"Oh, please, don't stop," she begged in her breathiest whisper.
I slipped my moist fingers through her lips, onto her tongue, and said, "There's more for you to try on," before walking out of the fitting room and leaving her restless.
I knew she would need more for the next few days and I came back with a slim-fitting halter dress with a deep V that came down to her the bottom of her breast bone. I slipped it over the fitting room door and told her to try it on. As soon as she had it on, she flung open the door, leaned her hand against the frame of the door, and just stood there with her eyes piercing through me, igniting my cock like a Roman candle ready for takeoff. I pushed her against the fitting room wall, slid my hand under the top of her dress to grab her breast hard, pressed my trouser-cloaked cock against her, and didn't say a word as I pulled away.
"Tease!" she said in a quiet mock scream. "I want more!"
"More clothes?" I asked jestfully as I opened the door to walk out. "Coming right up."
I came back with a short flouncy sundress that held up her tits like a wanton wench when she it tried on. I bent her over and flipped the bottom of the dress over her hips and slid my cock slowly and deeply inside her pussy. She let out a purring moan that was loud enough for the saleswoman to hear.
"Pardon me," the saleswoman said from the other side of the door. "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you don't stop ..."
I pulled out and zipped up quickly, grabbed the first two dresses Andrea tried on, opened the door, and said, "We'll take these plus the one she has on. Bring us anything else you think she'd look good in and any jewelry and shoes, Size 7, you think will go with them. Here's my credit card."
I don't know whose jaw hit the floor first, but I didn't get to see the saleswoman pick hers up before she went out to discreetly take her time to pick out a few other dresses and the accessories to go with them.
"Michael, I can't believe what you just ..." Andrea gasped before I cut her off with a deep kiss as I pulled down her dress, ripped off her panties, and then turned her around to bend her over back over the back of the chair in the fitting room. She automatically spread her legs wide open and stood on her tip toes so I could slide back into her. No, not slide, but slam back into her. She was so incredibly hot and tight for me. Her inside walls clenched me like a vice, so hard that I could barely slide in an out of her. I felt as if I wanted to burst from the deepest part inside of my loins, a part of me that was so deep inside that I was surprised it existed.
I pulled out just before the climax of her orgasm, leaving her flushed, breathless and still wanting more. At just the right time, the saleswoman knocked and slipped a few more dresses through the tiniest crack of the door. I just sat back and just watched get dressed and undressed without making a move toward her, knowing it was driving her absolutely insane.
I wanted her too. I wanted to shoot whatever I had inside of her like a fire hose on a three-alarm fire, but there just wasn't time. And knowing what she was going to wear half of the time over the next few days, I knew what we'd be doing the other half of the time.
By the time we were done in the fitting room, the saleswoman had about seven or eight pairs of shoes and a counter full of bracelets, cocktail rings, necklaces and earrings waiting for us.
"Take whatever fits and whatever you think you need to polish off the look," I said. "We have to get going."
Andrea tried to protest, saying it was all much too much.
"How often do you get a chance to be lusted after and assaulted like that in a dress shop?" I asked her with a wink and a sly grin, barely within earshot of the saleswoman.
Andrea grabbed me, kissed me, and smiled like a Cheshire cat who knew she had gotten away with doing something really, really bad.
"But now I have to get back to the room and make some phone calls while you have someone do your hair and your makeup at the salon down the street," I told her as I signed the bill and sent her off with a kiss.