place, either.”
“Then I’m open to your suggestion.”
It had to be somewhere he could strip completely to give her the full effect. So not a car where all he’d be able to do was unzip his pants. She wanted maximum visual impact. There was always a hotel room, but then she’d be tempted to do other things. She needed privacy as well as protection from the big bad wolf. Where, oh where?
A dressing room. Yeah. What could happen in a dressing room other than making him prove he’d followed her instructions? There was this little lingerie shop her mother was fond of in Stanford Shopping Center. Josie didn’t buy, but she’d tagged along. Once, she’d seen a man and woman enter the dressing room together. The saleslady hadn’t said a word, as if it were done all the time. In fact, the guy kept coming out and choosing different things for his girlfriend to try on.
“I’ve got the perfect place.” She told him how to get there and exactly where to meet her. In drive time, it was probably equidistant between his work and hers. All right, slightly more favorable to her, but it was such a good idea.
She’d pretend she was trying stuff on herself and make Kyle strip down to his, no, her skivvies.
THE small lingerie shop was tucked away in a barely noticeable tributary in the Stanford Mall. Kyle was fifteen minutes early, the evening commute traffic out of the city having been astonishingly light. August could be like that, with lots of people on family vacation before school started. Come Labor Day, the roads would be hell again.
A tasteful display filled the front window, black fishnet stockings draped over a white velvet pillow, a gold Mardi Gras mask, sequins glittering in the spot lighting, a silver satin . . . What did they call that thing, a bustier? Or maybe a corset? Holy hell. Was that a riding crop peeking out from beneath it?
Maybe this wasn’t just a lingerie shop. What did Josie have planned for him? His heart picked up the pace as he contemplated just how kinky she could be and exactly how she planned to verify he was wearing her scrap of clothing.
He’d put them on this morning, feeling idiotic. She’d wanted to one-up him, push his masculine limits. She’d lost control yesterday, and she wanted it back any way she could get it. Despite knowing her only a handful of days, he’d figured that out. In an odd way, being cognizant of that gave him the upper hand. She thought she was leading, when actually she’d turned control over to him. She couldn’t offend his masculinity at this point by virtue of the fact that she was playing along with him. Each new adventure entangled her more.
Then there were the panties themselves. Her scent was all over them, all over him. Closing his eyes, he felt her hand on him, heard her voice once again in his ear. The satin cupping his cock kept her image on the edge of his consciousness all day. The vibrator between her spread legs, the total concentration on her face as she came, the throaty, sexy cry that fell from her lips. He wanted her in the green satin again, and this time, he’d be the one to make her come.
He wandered inside, half expecting to find an assortment of canes, whips, and chains lining the walls.
Not so. Artful lighting enhanced an eclectic assortment of female frippery. Lace, satin, silk, bras, panties, thongs, stockings, corsets, every texture imaginable in all the colors of the rainbow. Lush blue carpet cushioned his footsteps, instrumental mood music played low, and the light scent of vanilla perfumed the air.
“May I help you?” The clerk smiled. With hair an attractive shade of gray and laugh lines at her eyes and mouth, Kyle didn’t think she’d been the one to put the riding crop in the window.
He pointed toward the front of the shop. “I’m interested in the silver garment in the display.”
“Oh, the bustier. They’re right over here.” She bade him follow her with a wave of her hand.
The bustier closed
“Then I’m open to your suggestion.”
It had to be somewhere he could strip completely to give her the full effect. So not a car where all he’d be able to do was unzip his pants. She wanted maximum visual impact. There was always a hotel room, but then she’d be tempted to do other things. She needed privacy as well as protection from the big bad wolf. Where, oh where?
A dressing room. Yeah. What could happen in a dressing room other than making him prove he’d followed her instructions? There was this little lingerie shop her mother was fond of in Stanford Shopping Center. Josie didn’t buy, but she’d tagged along. Once, she’d seen a man and woman enter the dressing room together. The saleslady hadn’t said a word, as if it were done all the time. In fact, the guy kept coming out and choosing different things for his girlfriend to try on.
“I’ve got the perfect place.” She told him how to get there and exactly where to meet her. In drive time, it was probably equidistant between his work and hers. All right, slightly more favorable to her, but it was such a good idea.
She’d pretend she was trying stuff on herself and make Kyle strip down to his, no, her skivvies.
THE small lingerie shop was tucked away in a barely noticeable tributary in the Stanford Mall. Kyle was fifteen minutes early, the evening commute traffic out of the city having been astonishingly light. August could be like that, with lots of people on family vacation before school started. Come Labor Day, the roads would be hell again.
A tasteful display filled the front window, black fishnet stockings draped over a white velvet pillow, a gold Mardi Gras mask, sequins glittering in the spot lighting, a silver satin . . . What did they call that thing, a bustier? Or maybe a corset? Holy hell. Was that a riding crop peeking out from beneath it?
Maybe this wasn’t just a lingerie shop. What did Josie have planned for him? His heart picked up the pace as he contemplated just how kinky she could be and exactly how she planned to verify he was wearing her scrap of clothing.
He’d put them on this morning, feeling idiotic. She’d wanted to one-up him, push his masculine limits. She’d lost control yesterday, and she wanted it back any way she could get it. Despite knowing her only a handful of days, he’d figured that out. In an odd way, being cognizant of that gave him the upper hand. She thought she was leading, when actually she’d turned control over to him. She couldn’t offend his masculinity at this point by virtue of the fact that she was playing along with him. Each new adventure entangled her more.
Then there were the panties themselves. Her scent was all over them, all over him. Closing his eyes, he felt her hand on him, heard her voice once again in his ear. The satin cupping his cock kept her image on the edge of his consciousness all day. The vibrator between her spread legs, the total concentration on her face as she came, the throaty, sexy cry that fell from her lips. He wanted her in the green satin again, and this time, he’d be the one to make her come.
He wandered inside, half expecting to find an assortment of canes, whips, and chains lining the walls.
Not so. Artful lighting enhanced an eclectic assortment of female frippery. Lace, satin, silk, bras, panties, thongs, stockings, corsets, every texture imaginable in all the colors of the rainbow. Lush blue carpet cushioned his footsteps, instrumental mood music played low, and the light scent of vanilla perfumed the air.
“May I help you?” The clerk smiled. With hair an attractive shade of gray and laugh lines at her eyes and mouth, Kyle didn’t think she’d been the one to put the riding crop in the window.
He pointed toward the front of the shop. “I’m interested in the silver garment in the display.”
“Oh, the bustier. They’re right over here.” She bade him follow her with a wave of her hand.
The bustier closed
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