Once my body made contact with his warm lap, I realized I'd gotten a bit chilly post-climax, with no clothes on, moist with the sexual sweat of several orgasms.
I asked him, “So she's allowed to touch other women?”
“That's right,” he said. “But not men.”
“Ah. Restrictions.”
“Some things we save for each other.”
He kissed me on my shoulder blades. I felt his member come to life underneath me. He rocked his hips, and his soldier awakened and knocked at my back door.
I stood up quickly. “I should get dressed,” I said.
Just then, a black dress whipped into the room, over the top of the change room door.
“Perfect,” he said, grinning.
The dress was backless, so it wouldn't be worn with a bra anyway. I tucked my nude-colored bra and my white cotton panties in my purse, next to the sticky, wet lollipop, and put on the black dress.
“Wear it out of here,” he said. “You look so great. I'm saving this image of you, in my mind.”
He pulled off the sock and stared at it, as though confused about what had happened, then he tossed it in the garbage bin, a bin I hadn't noticed sitting in the corner. He picked up the other sock and tossed it in as well. Within a minute, we were both completely dressed, and had both fixed our hair.
“You go out first,” he said. “I'll follow in a minute. Check to see if the Missus is good to go. Ask her if she's ready for a man to stretch out her lady-licked pu**y.”
I covered my mouth with one hand. “Goodness! I don't know if I can say that.”
He leaned back on the bench and reached for his cell phone. “Get creative,” he said. “Thanks, Charlotte.”
I started to tell him my name was Lexie, but then I stopped. It didn't matter. We'd had our fun, and now I had a great memory, and so did he.
I left the change room with my modest clothes folded over my arm, and told the shop girl waiting in the adjoining room that I'd decided to wear the dress out.
As the girl was removing the tag, Mr. Hubert appeared and instructed her to put the two dresses on his bill, along with whatever Mrs. Hubert picked out.
The girl nodded and took me over to the wrap station, where she folded up the red dress for me.
A lithe arm snaked around my waist. I turned to see Mrs. Hubert, flushed and looking ten years younger, standing at my side.
Mr. Hubert said to us both, “If you'll excuse me, lovely ladies, I've gotten a business call just now that I must attend to. I'll take a taxi and leave the driver here for you to get home.” He made a disgusted face.
Mrs. Hubert sighed and said, “Not Thorne again.”
Mr. Hubert frowned and said, “He is a literal thorn in my side. The name is so apt.”
She nodded at him, dismissing him. “Go get him.”
He turned and walked off, the silver fox leaving the scene.
So … Mr. Hubert had business dealings with Mr. Thorne. What a small world!
I'd been trying to forget about the man, and here the idea of him kept popping up, as though the universe was trying to send me a message.
I turned to Mrs. Hubert. “What next? Did you need a second opinion on anything you tried on?”
The pale girl from the makeup counter scurried by, looking disheveled, with messed-up hair and makeup.
Mrs. Hubert said, “I got what I came for.” She nodded at an impressive stack of clothing next to my neatly-folded red dress. “Plus those.”
“Super,” I said, and I meant it. Making people happy made me happy.
She gave me a kind smile. “What a great day this has been.”
Part 3: The Fireman
Exactly one week after my first personal shopping job and my first change-room multiple orgasm (or, really, my first anywhere multiple orgasm) I wore the black dress to meet my friend Jacob for cocktails. And by cocktails, I mean mostly cock.
Jacob, you see, was what people euphemistically call a f**k buddy. Wait, that's not a euphemism, is it? I suppose a euphemism would be “special friend.” Fuck buddy pretty much says it like it is.
For the sake of prolonging the action, we met for drinks at the fancy restaurant under his condo. The bar at the restaurant was much hotter than what waited for us upstairs, which was a fold-out bed in a modest bachelor apartment. Jacob kept the place somewhat tidy, but it didn't make my pulse race quite like all the shiny polished surfaces downstairs in the lounge.
He brought me over a martini and sat a respectable distance away, on the fainting sofa—it was one of those thinly-upholstered deals with a back and one arm on one side. The thing looked perfect for sex, because you could go one way and use the arm for pumping leverage, or do a one-eighty and let your feet stick off the end.
I was eyeballing up the sofa for position possibilities as Jacob eyeballed my hot, new dress.
“That's not cheap,” he said.
“Neither am I.”
He pulled out his wallet and took a peek. “I can buy you two more of those martinis, so long as I nurse this light beer.”
“Sounds good. We can't have you losing your … edge.”
He leaned in and nuzzled me on the ear. “Come on, Lexie, drink up and let's go upstairs.”
“Don't you want to know how I got this dress?”
“I want your sexy black dress on my floor. I'm gonna pound your pu**y.”
I pulled away from him, simultaneously turned on and also revolted by his vulgar talk. Jacob had that push-pull effect on me, which was why we weren't a regular item.
He leaned in and said, “I'm going to eat that dirty pu**y that you've been sitting on all day. Then I'm going to ram my c**k down your throat until you're gagging on cum.”
I pushed him away. “Eugh. Really? You watch too much p**n o. That shit's ruining your mind.”
He shrugged. “Talking dirty is hot.”
I sipped my martini, waiting for my revulsion versus attraction to slip closer to the positive. “I'll only go upstairs if you promise you won't say another word.”
“No can do. I like to vocalize.”
“Fine. I'll give you a list of words, and you can only say those select words.”
He raised his eyebrows and chugged half his beer, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, which triggered a memory of the last time he went down on me. Once he had his mouth full and shut up, Jacob could be a fun guy.
I quaffed back the rest of the martini, then counted off some words on my fingers. “Good. Yes. Pussy.”
He leaned in, excited. “And what else?”
“That's it. Three words.”