All those gorgeous designer clothes, and the high-priced makeup counter, too. I felt like a starving kid in a candy shop. I'd worn a low-key flared skirt, in navy, and a newer blouse, simple and cream-colored, and I'd cut off the labels, which was good, because if I fainted of pleasure amongst all the good stuff, I didn't want the paramedics to see what cheap clothes I was wearing.
As we started shopping around, I noticed Mr. Hubert, the silver fox, was looking at my ass like it might have Mrs. Hubert the Fourth written all over it.
I caught him looking, and he didn't look away. Oh, he was a bold one!
Mrs. Hubert wanted to try on some perfume samples before we moved on to the “main event” of clothes and shoes.
“A little shopping foreplay?” I said to her.
She blushed prettily and said, “That's exactly what it is. Working up the appetite. You're so good! I bet you're naughty, too.” She raised her eyebrows and gave Mr. Hubert a pouty look. “I think today might get expensive for you.”
He took her by the hand and kissed her bony knuckles. “Anything for my kitty-cat,” he said, shooting a look at me, over her shoulder.
MEOW!
Mrs. Hubert tried on some perfume samples, getting at least two makeup counter girls to run back and forth, growing flustered in their pristine white jackets. It's funny how girls with absolutely no medical training suddenly look like doctors in those white makeup counter outfits. The two girls, one dark and one fair, were attractive enough, but Mr. Hubert only had eyes for … me.
Even as his wife leaned across the counter and bade him to smell all manner of samples, on her wrists, her arms, her neck, he kept looking my way, hungrily.
The silver fox was hungry.
And I was his prey.
I pretended to be really interested in the perfumes, saying, “Definitely a chocolate undertone,” when prompted by Mrs. Hubert. “Delicious,” I said, “Makes me hungry for another lollipop.”
Mr. Hubert's lip twitched.
I knew if I could get him alone, I would get f**ked so hard. Every time I made eye contact with those steely blue eyes, I thought about the silver hairs that likely sprouted around his firm manhood, and I kept thinking, you want to f**k me, over and over, like telepathy.
So hard, he said with his eyes.
I glanced over at Mrs. Hubert. Her face said, whee, shopping! At least she was happy. I felt ashamed for eye-fucking her husband, but I was sure she'd done the same to him back when he was with Mrs. Hubert Number Two.
My mound was getting so hot and juicy over Mr. Hubert's eager looks that I considered excusing myself to the ladies' room to have a little finger-blast on my own, but I figured as soon as I left Mr. Hubert, the silver fox heat would fade, and it would just be me, banging away. I was good, but I wasn't that good.
I wondered if Mrs. Hubert was kinky. Maybe she wouldn't even mind if I blew her husband. She could watch, even. I didn't care. I'd heard things about the ample-sized changing rooms at this particular boutique, and I wondered if the stories were true.
Apparently, according to certain unnamed sources of mine, the staff were extremely discreet.
As I was mulling this over, trying to remember which one of my friends had tipped me off, one of the makeup counter girls gave me a knowing look. “You're new,” she said.
“I usually work in the home,” I said. “Organizing.”
She gave me a meaningful smile and leaned toward me, looking like she wanted to tell me something in private. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Hubert were down in the men's cologne section, and she was trying to mist him with something, while he was being obstinate and refusing to try a new scent. He liked the one he had, he insisted. She giggled and chased after him with a spritzer.
I leaned in to talk to the makeup-counter girl. She was the darker-skinned one, and her name tag said Teisha. “Do they come here a lot?” I asked Teisha.
She smiled, revealing perfectly-white teeth that matched her pristine jacket. She wore shell-pink eyeshadow, which contrasted nicely with her dark carob skin. “The Huberts have an interesting arrangement,” she said.
“Do tell.”
She looked around, as though keeping an eye out for a supervisor.
“I shouldn't say.”
I leaned in. “One professional to another. I work hard for my money, as I'm sure you do. Rich people are weird. You can tell me anything.”
She looked around again, then giggled. The other girl, the fair one, had disappeared, running after the Huberts with tissues and cologne.
Teisha said, “Their rule is he can do anything he wants, but nobody but Mrs. Hubert is allowed to touch his … his you-know-what.”
I frowned. “Well that's no fun. That's the best part.”
She raised her eyebrows and batted her eyelids, her pale pink eyeshadow shimmering. “You'd be surprised.”
“With you?”
She nodded.
“He gave you … ?”
Her tongue darted out of her mouth, made a few suggestive licks, and went back into her mouth.
“No way. Here?”
Teisha nodded. “Right here behind the makeup counter.” She pointed over to a cubby under the counter. “He got down there while she was shopping. We were technically closed for the day, but people could still see in the window. I was wearing a skirt that day, so I slipped off my panties and stood right there and he went at it.”
“No!” My jaw was fully dropped open.
Her dark cheeks reddened. “He was a champion, too.”
“Did you … come?”
She laughed, suddenly and loudly. In answer, she held up three fingers. Three times! Wow, Mr. Hubert.
I said, “And Mrs. Hubert, she doesn't mind?”
“As long as he doesn't touch a girl with his penis, she doesn't mind one bit. You know, she actually invited me over to their house for dinner after, but … I have a boyfriend!”
“You bad girl, Teisha,” I said.
She held one manicured finger to her lips. “Don't tell.”
I zipped my lips. “Your secret's safe with me.”
I took one more look over at the cubby under the counter and imagined Mr. Hubert, Mr. Silver Fox, folded up in there like a caged animal, his head under a skirt, going to town on Teisha's juicy peach. I glanced down at the lollipops in my purse. Lollipops weren't going to cut it, not after the hot story she told me. I wondered if it was true, or just the product of her imagination. Teisha didn't strike me as a liar, but … Mrs. Hubert's rules seemed too good to be true.
When the Huberts came back over, he swatted her on the butt. From the smell of it, she'd gotten him good with the cologne. I could have smelled him a mile away, but the cologne was nice—musky and sweet, not overpowering.