During the rest of the summer, I treated the idea of having a threesome as a mere fantasy, not as something that might actually happen someday. I didn’t have Adrienne’s contact information, so there was little chance of us ever meeting again. Whenever I thought of her, it was solely to get myself aroused for going at it with my boyfriend. Unfortunately, our sex life dumbed down a bit after that Sunday morning in the car. Alex had to work overtime constantly, and, though I was busy with ‘ameliorating’ mon français, I rather neglected learning some French dirty talk. Even my own cum-covered face as I had been admiring it in the mirror that morning, moved to some slumbering area of my mind.

One afternoon in early autumn, I felt particularly homesick and decided to take a day off from working and studying, and to go for lunch at an Italian restaurant, to remedy my homesickness. I had asked Alex to join me, but he’d texted that he couldn’t make it, and so I went alone and in my depressed mood drank too much red wine – two glasses is much for me – and then the owner of the place sat at my table, chatted to me in Italian, and poured me an Amaretto, so that when I left the restaurant, I was rather buzzed.

It's not much good sitting at home alone drunk, so I decided to browse through some stores. Inside a fancy lingerie store, I fell in love with a stunning dark-brown Lise Charmel-set of silk stockings and suspenders, with matching bra and panties. It sure was outside my price range, but I had been drinking… I went into the booth to try it on, and took a picture of my body barely clothed in that gorgeous silky material and sent it to Alex with the text: Tu veux l’acheter pour moi? xxx

I said to myself that if he wouldn’t buy it for me, I’d be on a flight to Rome that very evening. For I absolutely adored how I looked in the set! My breasts were marvellously propped up by the bra without feeling constricted, and the skin of my thighs seemed particularly soft and milky between the stockings and the panties. With those narrow suspension bands holding up my stockings, I felt positively wrapped up like a present. I felt powerful too, like I was a soldier in uniform, like a femme fatale.

I sighed because Alex still hadn’t replied, and I wanted to be seen like this; I wanted eyes to lust after me now, hands to grapple for me, some engorged phallus to chase after me… I wanted to be fucked like this, looking like I did. I wanted to see someone’s eyes widen and go wild… I remembered my cum-covered face as I had seen it in the mirror not too long ago, and I thought: God such a face would look all the better over this outfit! All these thoughts and the sight of me in the mirror were making me horny, but then I sighed again and took another look at the price tag.

I had already unclasped the bra, having decided to be sensible and not to buy the set, when suddenly the curtain behind me moved and someone slipped in. I was startled, but before I could make a sound of protest, I saw her face in the mirror: it was Adrienne.

She wore a beige linen coat that fell to her knees, and she had her hands in her pockets and looked at my body through the mirror with an utterly unfazed expression. Her grey eyes were inspecting my breast, waist and thighs with an almost arrogant nonchalance, the way an art student would observe a marble statue. The only things that could have made her look even more French were a beret and a pipe.

‘Excuse me,’ I sputtered while looking at her through the mirror. ‘This one’s occupied.’

‘I’m not here to try anything on,’ she answered, without even bothering to seize her inspecting of my body for a moment and look me in the eye, as polite people do.

I was completely taken off guard.

‘But,’ I muttered again, weakly: ‘This one’s occupied.’

‘I can see that.’

Adrienne gave a nod to the unclasped bra that I was holding two-handedly in front of my bosom.

‘I don’t mean the bra.’

‘Nevertheless, it’s well occupied, the bra that is,’ she said, with another nod to my bosom, clumsily covered by my hands holding the bra. My breasts really bubbled upwards from me holding them like that.

‘Alors?’ she said, still looking at me through the mirror-like an unperturbed and utterly unperturbable French detective.

‘Quoi ‘alors’?’ I whispered.

‘Well, when I say ‘alors’, I mean that I didn’t follow you into this store, and consequently made a great effort to slip into your booth unseen, only to be thrown out by a blushing mademoiselle modeste. Alors, miss Bovary, show me your tits.’

‘What?’

I was suddenly quite aware that I was being a terrible conversationalist, parroting one-syllable long questions like a broken record, but honestly, I was so surprised… I felt like the French secret police, in the form of its prettiest agent, had arrested me and demanded that I strip down to my knickers.

‘I need to spell things out for you, don’t I?’ Adrienne said. ‘If you want me to help you pick out the best set to make that lucky boyfriend of yours go crazy – and that’s what I’m going to do whether you like it or not – you might as well get your initial timidity out of the way. Show me your tits and get over it. You’ve never been nude with some other girls before? Like when showering after gymnastics class or something? I go topless on the beach in front of all my friends – even the male ones – all the time. Nobody makes the tiniest fuss about it. And here you are, making a fuss. Show me your tits.’

Well, I suppose she had a point there. With us both looking at me in the mirror, I slowly took away the bra, baring my breasts.

‘Amai,’ she said, nonchalantly.

‘But if you want to help me pick out a set, isn’t it more important to see me with the bra on?’ I retorted. My cheeks had turned rather hot.

‘Don’t be brassy.’

She had stepped closer to me, so close she could almost rest her chin on my shoulder, and then I felt a slender hand slide over my belly and cup one of my breasts.

My throat dried in an instant and I closed my eyes to the sensation – no girl had ever touched me there like that. Her chin now did indeed graze my shoulder, and I felt her breath in my neck; she smelled like coffee and a light perfume. Her hand began playing with my breast, kneading it, making it bounce, feeling its weight. I opened my eyes to see her do it: it was getting me very excited. Now, for the first time since entering the booth, she smiled at me.

‘You like getting your tits fumbled by a girl?’

I nodded very slowly. Then she scissored my nipple between two of her fingers – so much slenderer than my boyfriend’s! – and squeezed.

I closed my eyes again and felt my lips part as I sighted inaudibly.

‘Bend over,’ she whispered in my ear. ‘So I can inspect your ass the way your boyfriend will inspect it.’

I opened my eyes and looked at her, at that very pretty face next to mine, Adrienne with her black froufrou and her undaunted grey eyes. She moved her hand to my upper back and softly pushed me, so delicately that I folded forward without protest. My hair fell in front of my face and I felt my boobs dangle. Then, I startled: in one quick motion, she had moved her thumb between my ass cheeks and had slid it downwards over my pussy towards my clit, where she pressed hard, making me veer forward – I had to hold out my hands against the mirror not to fall. Next thing, I heard the curtain flutter. I straightened myself, got my hair out of my face – but she had already slipped out, the curtain was still swaying.

I was all in a daze – she had touched my…!

It took me a little while to regain my composure, but when I did, I realised that I was in a very expensive store, and I touched the Lise Charmel-panties that I had fitted over my own. It was as I feared: not only my own knickers but the expensive ones I was trying on had also become wet with my fluids. Surely, I could not return them now. Since I could not, I pressed my fingertip into my clit for a bit. It sent warm shivers all through my belly, they even crawled upwards over my neck to the base of my skull. God, I was positively gagging for it now.

I am quite sure that I would have been able to orgasm in a minute or three, and I might have risked it too if the store manager hadn’t moved up to my booth at that moment and asked if everything were all right.

I moved my head outside the curtain and said: ‘Yes, I’m going to buy it.’

‘Magnifique,’ the woman said, with a cynicism in her voice that betrayed that she had seen Adrienne leave my booth.

‘Can I keep it on?’ I asked.

‘Naturellement.’

I felt so good in the outfit, that I preferred to keep wearing it. In fact, my plan at that stage was to go home as quickly as possible, drop myself down on the bed and then finger myself for an hour or so. And if I’d keep the set on, I’d be able to maintain my level of arousal during the bus ride home. I did, however, remove my own panties first, and then slid the Lise Charmel-ones back over my bare pussy, which felt great, so fresh and silky.

I paid by credit card and stepped outside, all dressed up underneath my dress and coat, all hot and bothered. The chilly September air teased my cheeks for how warm they were.

I looked at my phone: Alex had texted me back. Three smileys with hearts for eyes, one salivating smiley, and the message that he would not only buy me the set: he’d even pay me double just to make me wear it for him.

I couldn’t hold back a self-congratulatory smirk.

You’re in a meeting? I texted him.

This time he answered straight away. No more meetings today. Just daydreams from here on.

Another smirk twitched round my mouth: three guesses what those daydreams would be about… I wondered whether Alex would… he never had before.

Trying it on has made me awfully horny. You? I texted him, to incite him to maybe... maybe sent me…

Fuck, he replied.

And then, a minute or so later, it came: he sent me a dick pic! It was a picture of him sitting in his chair. I could see some of the drawers of his desk, and his trousers, and, of course, his cock: it was fully erect, covering most of the frame. Obviously, I recognised it well enough, but it was a strange sensation to see that hardened penis, so familiar to me in the flesh, appear on a screen like that. And I’d never had one sent to me before. It was exciting to know I was the cause of it, of him being so inappropriately engorged at his workplace.

I replied to his picture: Best not get too excited daydreaming. You know, sometimes dreams come through… Especially on days when there are no more meetings.

After sending, I put my phone away and started walking towards the office where Alex worked. It wasn’t far away; I’d be there in five minutes. Alex had no idea how near I already was, in more sense than one…

I didn’t really have a plan: I just boldly marched in and asked the receptionist if she could call Alex because he had a ‘personal visitor’. She complied without question.

A couple of minutes later, Alex appeared. He acted all surprised.

‘Won’t you give me a tour of the place?” I asked, staring knowingly into his eyes.

‘Sure,’ he said casually, with a sly smile that betrayed only to me that he was feeling the butterflies in his stomach.

I followed him past the reception desk towards the elevator. As we stood waiting for it to come down, a colleague queued up behind us, so we couldn’t speak freely.

‘Are you… did you buy…?’ Alex said softly.

‘Mais oui, naturellement,’ I replied.

That sly smile again.

‘How’s your eh… office?’ I asked.

‘Well, busy, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh,’ I said, disappointed. I knew his employer had embraced one of those flexible seating policies, which meant that Alex had an office room all to himself only on certain days, and, judging by his response, this wasn’t one of those days.

Me, him, and his colleague all got in the elevator. It was one of those with a large mirror in one of the side walls, before which ran a wooden rail at waist level. We moved to the back of the elevator, Alex’ coworker stood in front of us with his back to us. Apparently, he and Alex weren’t mates.

‘Got any work done this afternoon?’ I asked Alex, to drive out the awkward silence, and distract myself from my disappointment because I was now under the impression that nothing was going to happen here today.

To my surprise, Alex’ coworker spoke. He turned his head sideways, looked at me through the mirror and said: ‘You know what I got done today?’

‘N-no’, I said, unsure of where he was going with this.

Slowly, with a very serious expression on his face, as if he stating the most profound thing in the world, he said: ‘Let’s just say, I had to erase my internet history.’

I chuckled; I almost started laughing out loud in the man’s face. I could only just contain myself.

‘What?’ I muttered, still unsure of whether he was joking or not.

Meanwhile, we had arrived at the first floor, and Alex’ coworker stepped out, turned round, and cast me a puzzled look. Then the doors closed, and I burst out laughing. All the excitements of the day, and not to forget the effects of the alcohol, came out at that moment, set off by that weird remark.

‘He’s an odd sort of fellow,’ said Alex.

‘He wasn’t joking?’ I managed to vocalise in my laughing fit.

‘I’m afraid not.’

I opened my coat, rested my back against the wall and slid down all the way till I sat on the carpeted floor, still shuddering uncontrollably.

‘Oh my,’ I sighted after a second or so, holding my belly, and looking up at Alex. He was looking at me very intently. I noticed that I had subconsciously pulled down hard on the front of my dress as I was laughing. I had thus exposed whatever was visible of my breasts above my bra. As I looked down at my own cleavage, I saw the dark-brown fringes of the Lise Charmel-bra peep out above my dress.

I pulled it down even further: it was only a light, old summer dress, so I didn’t care much about stretching it. I fully exposed my bra.

‘You like?’

‘J’adore.’ he said, and then, with a speedy decisiveness that I hadn’t dared hope for anymore, he added: ‘I can stop the elevator between floors.’

‘Huh? Wait – can you?’

‘I can.’

‘Are there…?’

I looked up at the corners of the ceiling.

‘Camera’s? No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Ma cherie, I am the IT-security guy, remember. Yes, I am sure.’

‘Do it,’ I whispered, as I felt my heartbeat quicken.

By this time, we had climbed all the way up to the fifth and final floor. The doors had even opened, but nobody had entered. Alex closed the doors again, and then he took out his phone and started tapping the screen. As I got to my feet, the elevator began moving down.

‘You control this thing with your phone?’

‘Yes. I have way too much power here,’ he mumbled.

When we were between the third and fourth floor, the elevator came to a halt. There was a grinding sound – then a total stop. Alex put his phone away and looked at me.

For a second or so, we were both hesitant.

‘And now?’ I said, and I bit my lip and laughed.

‘You came here for a reason.’

‘Just to see where you work.’

‘You’re a tease,’ he whispered with a hoarse voice, and then laid both his hands on my neck and kissed me. I was immediately hot as oil again. I pushed him away from me, and then stripped for him: I removed my coat, slid the bands of my dress over my shoulders, pulled my dress down, and then just stood there in front of him in the sexiest lingerie I’d ever worn. His eyes opened wide as he stared at my thighs presented to him in between the stockings and panties.

He had me up against the wall in no time, kissing me wildly, with his hands grabbing ferociously in my ass, his hardness underneath his trousers pushing against my crotch. He started dry-humping me, and I had to stop kissing because I was already so close… He bit my neck while I looked over his shoulder into the mirror: my stocking-covered legs were wrapped over his back, and I found the sight of myself like that so hot that I felt my orgasm approaching…

But then, his crotch pulled back from mine for a second or so: he freed his cock, pulled my panties aside, and entered me. He dove real deep straight away – he had to, pushing me against the wall as he was – and it was a wonderful feeling to be penetrated being suspended in the air like that: it was hard to make out whether I was sliding down on top of him, or whether he was rising up into me.

‘You’re so wet,’ he groaned. ‘I want to fuck you hard. Do you want it like that?’

I moaned in his ear for a response. Immediately, he put me down, grabbed my hair at the scalp and made me fold forwards at the hips a lot more forcefully than Adrienne had earlier made me fold forwards, in front of another mirror. I rested my hands on the wooden rail and felt the glans of Alex’ cock press and fumble against my pussy.

He used some additional saliva, but it was hardly necessary. I watched my own face in the mirror as he entered me, and I saw my chin sink down as I sighted at the sensation of my pussy stretchting. There was even a wrinkle contorting my forehead for a moment, for he had slid his cock balls deep inside of me in one hard, decisive thrust. I felt my legs go limp with pleasure. More than anything else, it was his hands tightly holding my hips that kept me standing on my feet.

He pounded into me. I had to press my hands into the wooden rail on each thrust not to fall forward and bang my head against the mirror, and I suppose I liked to resist his thrusts just that little bit, for that made him slide inside me even deeper. He had never had me this raw, and I suppose I had never let him, nor had I encouraged him to do so.

He started pulling my hair, but I wanted him to unclasp my bra, so that I would feel my tits dangle – even if it might hurt a bit afterwards, it would be totally worth it. I unsuccessfully fumbled to unclasp the thing – try doing that if you’re being pounded from behind! – and he got the message and unclasped it for me. My new bra slipped down over my arms towards my wrists.

I was a hair’s breadth away from orgasm and so was Alex, judging by his pace. The slap of skin on skin echoed in the small space of the elevator.

‘Fuck, you… you…’ Alex managed to vocalise, panting.

I did not want him to become considerate with me now and hold back his own orgasm for the sake of mine, so I moaned: ‘Fill me, come inside me, babe.’

Saying that while being fucked like that was so hot: I was relishing how wild I’d made him become, and I took a deep joy in hearing him moan as he came inside me with a volley of deep thrusts.

I removed one hand from the rail and started rubbing my clit with it. Oh, it wouldn’t need much, just a little bit, a little bit… ‘Don’t go out of me yet,’ I pleaded.

Alex obeyed and more: he thrust himself deep into me again, and moved his own hand between my legs, placing it over mine, and then he lifted upwards with all his might.

I was pulled to my toes, floating on top of my hand and his, pressing hard into my clit.

He groaned in my ear: ‘Can you feel my cum dripping down your thighs, you little slut?’

Oh, he couldn’t have picked a better time to say that word to me for the first time ever, for it made me cum so hard! In my orgasm, I dropped down to my knees, as I was unable to keep standing, but Alex kept supporting me with his hands and gently guided me down as I was writhing with pleasure.

It took a moment or two before I regained my awareness of place. I was on hands and knees on some carpet-covered floor, my bra was on my wrists, in front of me was a mirror where I saw my bare breasts dangling, and my legs were wrapped in stockings with suspenders.

Alex helped me to my feet and kissed me passionately, though I was, admittedly, a little too dazed to respond in like manner.

I cleaned myself up with some paper towels that I had in my purse, got my dress and coat back on, and kissed Alex on the cheek as he turned the elevator back on.

Only then did he give me a little tour of the place: his desk, the cafeteria… To be honest, I hardly remember any of it. I do remember wondering if any of his coworkers knew, if they could see it on me… I was happy to get out of that building.

I took a bus ride home and let my forehead rest against the cool windowpane, which, as you can imagine, felt divine at that moment. As I enjoyed the sensation, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t even told Alex about Adrienne!

As I recalled my little tête-a-tête with her, I went through my purse to assure myself that the bra and panties that I had originally worn, were still in it. They were, but I also felt something I had not expected to be there: a piece of cartboard or something.

It turned out to be a beer felt from a café, the name of which was printed on the felt and immediately recognised by me: it was the café across the street from the lingerie store.

On the back of the felt stood a telephone number, and, below those digits, four letters: biz A.

Biz, you should know, is short for bisous, meaning kisses…

For a while, I sat there staring out of the window, watching the houses go by, holding the beer felt in my right hand and my phone in my left hand, turning them over, fumbling them, thinking about it… Would I… Should I…