My husband and I have been married almost five years. We're both thirty-two years old, and we have a darling one-year-old baby girl who is the light of our lives. We're both very physically active, working out and playing sports. We take Charlotte with us when we run, pushing her in the stroller while we talk. We have the perfect relationship, and we're in the prime of our sexual lives.
During our time together, our sex life has ebbed and flowed like the waves on a beach. Before Char, we were hot lovers doing it in every room of the house in all sorts of positions. After her arrival, we toned it down and almost shut it off completely. We'd switch off not being in the mood, and the lusty one would end up masturbating while the other read, watched television or took care of our doll.
We've discussed having another baby so that they would be two years or so apart. But, for the past few months, neither of us has been in the mood to make another child or to have sex.
I mentioned this predicament to a couple of my close girlfriends who are married or in a similar situation as I am. We brainstormed different ideas to reignite our sex lives, but nothing seemed to work. During one of these sessions, one of my closest friends, my 'big sis' from my sorority in college told me about this little exclusive boutique on the west side of town. It was by appointment only, run by a woman who had magnificent taste in lingerie. I got the number and called after one more disappointing night when I was willing and able, but my darling husband wasn't in the mood. I needed to spice things up, or we'd never have a sibling for little Char.
I called and left a message giving my name and number along with Debbie's name as a reference. The woman called back a couple of days later. We talked for a bit; she explained that her merchandise wasn't inexpensive. I didn't go into details, but I did mention that my husband's birthday was coming up so this might be the perfect gift for him and myself. She laughed at that, and we set a date and time for me to see her wares.
I took a Friday afternoon off from work to make sure I had enough time and not feel rushed making a decision. Her store was tucked away between two older buildings in the middle of the block off the main drag of shops and boutiques. It was nondescript; the front entry was up a couple of steps, wrought iron handrails led up to a solid ornate oak door. On either side of the door were two display windows that looked as if they hadn't been changed since the fifties. Two female mannequins were in each one wearing furs and hats, their shirts just below their knees. I wondered to myself what I was getting into. But, Debbie had highly recommended her, so I knocked three times with the large bronze knocker on the door then stepped back waiting for a reply.
I heard faint footsteps approach but then silence. I waited patiently as the door creaked open. The same voice I heard on the phone beckoned me in. I cautiously moved forward stepping into a musty foyer which led to a closed door. To my left, the outside door closed as I turned to look. I spied one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen closing and locking it.
I'm five foot nine barefoot, she was at least my height with long straight raven black hair to her ass. It slowly swished back and forth like a pendulum as she closed and locked the door. I stood in awe as she turned to greet me. She looked to be about forty years old, not that much older than me. Her hand outstretched, a wide grin on her face, she smiled looking me over with a gleam in her eyes. Her fingernails were painted a bright crimson as she gently took my hand in hers and said, "Hello, you must be Cynthia. I'm Giselle, lovely to meet you and welcome to my little boutique.”
She was dressed somewhat provocatively in a black leather miniskirt, black hose, stilettos, and a crimson silk blouse unbuttoned enough to reveal her ample cleavage in a red lace bra. I was very impressed, not that I have a thing for women, but she was someone even a straight girl would turn her head to check out. She wore very little if any makeup, her eyes were a deep blue which contrasted with her ruby red lips.
It seemed like she floated past me. A brief whiff of her perfume flooded my senses with a delightful scent that left me feeling somewhat euphoric. I followed her through the second doorway into a room filled with racks and hangers loaded with the sheerest fabrics and skimpiest garments I'd ever seen. Shelves lined the walls, each with a stack of various colors designed to titillate and arouse.
She led me to a seating area and offered me some wine, which I accepted. She went to a small bar on the wall near the seating area and poured each of us a drink. She then came back, handed me a glass and offered a place on the large leather sofa to sit then eased herself down facing me. We clinked our glasses smiling at each other as we did. We each took a sip and once more I was delighted, the wine was delicious. I asked her what it was and all she would tell me was that it was a unique blend one of her clients made for her, a limited edition.
We rested our glasses on the table in front of us, her knees gently touching mine. She smiled and asked what exactly I was looking for so she could best fit me. I explained our situation. Briefly, she smiled and nodded her head as if she's heard the story a dozen times or more. When I'd finished, she took my hands in hers and looked me in the eyes. Her lips moved, and for a second I was mesmerized not hearing what she said. She laughed then repeated herself as I came back to reality.
I apologized and she said not to worry, she'd experienced my reaction before.
Then she got serious, “How sexy do you want to be, Cynthia?”
I replied, “Sexy enough for him to want to make love more often.”
As she massaged my hands she spoke, “I can make you subtly sexy, overtly sexy and even extremely sexy. It's your choice.”
Her touch made my pussy tingle a bit. I don't know if it was the wine, the ambiance, her or what, but I was feeling sexy already.
My hesitation in answering made her think for a few moments. “Okay, let's start at the beginning. Have you ever purchased lingerie before to just wow your man?”
I blushed and shook my head, “No, just girly things for myself.”
She smiled, “Who's in charge in the bedroom?”
I thought for a second before answering, "We both are, I guess. We have a routine we follow with some variations. It was different when we were dating."
"Does he or you have an aversion to leather?" she asked with a grin.
"Not that I'm aware of, I'm not a dominatrix."
She laughed, "You don't need to be, sweetie. Looking hot in leather doesn't make you a dominatrix. The actions and attitude do."
"Oh, okay," I replied showing my lifestyle ignorance.
She rose, taking my hand in hers, “Let's see what I have to work with.”
I looked a bit confused I guess because she laughed as I stood not knowing what to do next.
"Cynthia, I can better fit you if I know the exact size you are. Each manufacturer has slightly different measurements. I can mix and match items depending on what you like to better achieve your goals. These aren't cheap off the rack items you'd find at VS or god forbid, 'Frederick’s of Hollywood' if they still exist. Some of these are handmade out of exotic fabrics.”
I looked around wondering if anyone would see me. Giselle reassured me we were alone so I began by removing my suit jacket. She took it from me and hung it on a coatrack not far from the sofa. Next came my blouse which she handled delicately, recognizing the silk fabric. I slipped out of my heels, then unhooked my shirt which dropped to the floor leaving me in my drab and inexpensive (compared to Giselle's offerings) foundations of satin panties and sheer lace bra. I thought these might impress her but I was sadly mistaken. She placed my outer garments neatly in a pile on the sofa then patiently waited for my panties and bra. I looked at her wondering if they really had to come off. By the look on her face, I knew they did.
I removed the bra straps from my shoulders then lowered it to twist it so I could unhook it. Having done so, I handed it to her. The look on her face told me she was getting impatient with my strip tease so I quickly removed my panties and tossed them onto the pile.
She stood back, arms crossed, thinking, eyeing me up and down doing some calculating in her mind.
“You're what about five foot nine? Maybe a 36D? About a size nine shoe? Maybe one hundred fifty pounds?”
I was taken aback, "Yes, very close. I don't weight myself, but I think that's pretty close."
I stood there with my arms over my breasts and my legs crossed like a middle school girl in a locker room the first day of gym class. I don't know why, but I felt exposed. She just stood there looking me up and down like I was a piece of meat hanging in a butcher's window.
She laughed, "What are you doing? You obviously work out. Do you hide your body in the gym locker room?"
I sighed and relaxed, "No, this just feels weird."
“Do you do that with your husband?”
"Not usually, we don't parade around naked, but I don't shy away from him either."
“Hmmm, can I offer some advice? You can take it or leave it.”
“Sure.”
"Sometimes, familiarity can take the thrill out of sex. There is no mystery. When your husband sees you naked often, it becomes commonplace. Add some mystery, don't let him see you so often naked. If it can't be avoided hide something, don't always be completely nude. That's what we're going to do with your lingerie selection, add mystery, allure. Does that make sense?"