Another story with a change of perspective, hope it works and you like it.

It was early Friday morning, the day dark and overcast. I’d made the journey to town early, hoping to beat the crowds, but the weather was keeping most people at home. There was an autumnal chill to the air.

I got to the bank as soon as it opened, and was out within 10 minutes. I decided to head to the department store for a coffee and pastry before heading home.

A bus trundled up the road, and I waited patiently for it to pass. A flash of red opposite caught my attention- through the strobing bus windows I followed her progress up the road. The bus passed, and she was gone. I hurried across the road, pursuing her.

I pushed through the revolving door of the department store just in time to see her head up the escalator to the first floor. She was tall, willowy, with red hair, a dark green mac tied at the waist, and bare legs beneath. My impulses drove me on, following her up. 

At the top, I paused, looking around the shop floor. A few people milled around the place, women of all ages looking over racks of clothes. I took a few steps into the vast space, my eyes darting around. At the far end I caught sight of her. I turned and followed.

She was in the lingerie section, browsing the delicate, silky, brightly coloured sets. I stood a couple of rows across from her, just watching. She took a couple of items from the rails, holding them up, her green eyes assessing each item. Her eyes flickered over to me, her face showing signs of sun-kissed health, her lips slightly apart. Almost as soon as our eyes met, she broke the moment, resuming her perusal.

She stopped by a well-known brand of lingerie, picking up a lime green ensemble, bra and matching French knickers. She held it up, turning it in her hands; her mind seemed to be made up. 

Before I knew it, I was beside her, the words out before my brain registered the absurdity of the situation.

“I would love to see you in that."

She turned, her eyes on mine, her mouth rigid, expressionless. Up close, she was beautiful. Her hair hung framing her face, her fringe just above her eyes. She took a second to assess the situation. She looked around; I thought she was looking for a security guard or a shop worker. My hands were sweaty, my mouth dry.

She looked back at me, a decision made.

“Follow me.”

Turning, she headed to the changing rooms. I followed two steps behind.

There was no-one else around. She went to the last cubicle.

“Wait here.”

The door closed.

Sounds of zips, the rustling of fabric, shoes on the wooden floor. The door opened, just a fraction. Her bare arm snaked out, gripping mine, pulling me inside.

She stood, clad in the lime green of the bra and knickers, her skin lightly tanned, tall in her heels. She closed the door, sliding the bolt across. Hands on hips, legs slightly apart, shoulders back, chest thrust forward.

I gaped at her. She raised her eyes and I shut my mouth.

“Stunning.” I said, and meant it.

She smiled, turning a full circle, slowly. The mirror behind her meant she could see my reactions at all times. I think my appreciation was apparent, as she gazed at my crotch.

“Just the effect I was hoping for,” she said.

Tentatively, I put my hands out, onto her arms. She didn’t pull away. I ran my hands up her arms, to her shoulders, stepping closer I ran them back down to her sides, feeling the silky fabric under my fingertips, her skin on my palms. I brushed my fingers over her stomach, below her belly button, moving behind her to gently caress her back, her buttocks, her outer thighs. My lips touched her shoulders, her neck.

She turned, raising her face, exposing her throat. I leant in, kissing her neck, her throat, my hands on her hips, my tongue on her skin, lips and tongue finding their way to her cleavage.

“Don’t stop.”

My hands up under her breasts, the fabric of the bra thin enough to feel the weight of them, my mouth tasting the light perspiration forming on her skin under the bright lights. My thumbs flicked over her nipples, feeling them rise to meet my touch.

I could see the whiteness of the flesh of her breasts where her tan lines stopped, the chasteness turning me on even more. My erection was unbearable under the restraint of my clothes. 

My mouth closed on one nipple over the fabric, my saliva darkening the material, her excitement apparent through the tightness of the garment. I was on my knees, my hands running up the backs of her legs to her backside, feeling her cheeks, the silk cool under my touch.

She reached behind herself, the bra unfastened, her shoulders dropping forward as she shucked the garment off. Her exposed breasts, white triangles framing her perfect, rose coloured nipples, freckles dipping down her chest and forming an inviting ‘v’ between her breasts.

My mouth devoured one, then the other, relishing the responsive puckering centres, biting gently, eliciting a gasp from her. Her hands in my hair, almost directing my movement around her breasts.

My fingers moved between her legs, the back of my knuckles stroking her mound, feeling the heat beneath. Her legs parted, pushing herself into my touch. I reached out, pulling the stool closer, lifting one leg gently by the calf and placing her stilletoed foot on to it. I reluctantly took my mouth from her breasts, kissing down her stomach, butterfly kisses on her skin, feeling the silk under my lips, dipping down and down.

I could see my reflection in the mirror, could see her expression, saw her close her eyes as my mouth reached her rapidly swelling mound, the heat exquisite. I ran my tongue across her outer lips, the area already damp from her, my saliva adding to the wetness.

I closed my mouth over her, rubbing my teeth across her clit hood, my tongue probing the fabric. My hands moved, one slid under the silk knickers at the rear, my hand full of her cheek, gently kneading the firm flesh, the other joining my tongue and mouth, my ministrations driven by her soft moaning.

She came, whispered obscenities leaving her mouth, her teeth bared, and lips almost in rictus. She pushed herself hard against my face, shuddering once, twice, again, before her grip on my hair relaxed. 

I stood, my erection throbbing. I kissed her, hard, yet tenderly. One hand around my neck, pulling me close, the other hand dropping, rubbing me through my trousers, her fingers finding the zip, the belt fumbled open. Her hand gripped me, stroking me, almost unbearably.

She broke the moment, turning and kneeling on the stool, offering herself to me. I went to remove the knickers.

“Leave them.”

I could see her in the mirror, breasts hanging firmly, hair sticking to her face, eyes blazing as she caught my gaze. I stepped forward, my hands pulling the fabric to one side, exposing her, her hand reaching behind, finding my erection, and guiding me to her.

I slid inside her, the feeling almost too much. I slowed, taking my time, making this last as long as I possibly could. Her hand around my shaft, squeezing me, my hands on her hips, pushing her forward as I drew out, pulling her to me as I slid back inside her, my hips shifting side to side, raising myself on my toes to fill her deeply.

The tightness and silkiness of the fabric around my member was too much. She moaned again as she came, I quickened the pace, feeling myself reach the point of no return. My orgasm followed hers as my body worked in time with her. My hands gripped her breasts. I wanted one last one last memory of them. 

Slowly, we extricated ourselves from each other. The silk knickers were soaked. She reached for her handbag, taking out tissues, handing some to me. We cleaned up as best we could. She sat on the stool, her hair clinging to her face, her skin aglow. I pulled up my shorts and trousers, making myself more or less respectable. 

Still clad in just the French knickers, she stood, and pulled the bolt back on the door. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek, before ushering me out of the door, and bolting it behind me.

I stood for a second, wanting to knock the door and talk to her, ask for her number or give her mine, but the moment was gone. I made a promise to myself to come back next week, but I knew that experience would never be repeated.