The Lingerie Shop


Three PM at the coffee shop last week, I saw someone I had not seen for nine years. Monet was a woman I had hired years ago to work in the shop I ran at the time. I was not the owner, but managed a gift shop on Sutter Street at Stockton in San Francisco. She and I ran the shop nights and weekends, and she was always nice to be around. At the time, we were both in our twenties, and things were good. No cares, lots of free time, and we both got to sleep late every morning. Except Saturday and Sunday, since we ran the place from 10am until 8pm. It was a great time. The place was in a good neighborhood, with a tourist trade.

We sold all types of Indian goods there, including clothing. Men would bring their wives or girlfriends in, or some would come alone, to see the beautiful silk Saris, and the all would want to see how they looked in them. A Sari is just a length of cloth, and we had expensive embroidered silk. To dress in a sari, a woman has to be wrapped in it just so, and it needs to be secured in a particular fashion, or it will come undone. I had to help them wrap them on, since they had no idea how to do it. This entailed much touching of women, and I thought nothing of it. I did, however, notice that I kind of liked to touch pretty young girls while dressing them. More than once, a woman would make sure I got to feel her up really well. Looking back on it, I realize now that they were flirting with me constantly. They would always press this or that part of their body against me as I adjusted their fit, and I was too naïve to realize what they were offering at the time, and regret all the opportunities that I let slip by.

The shop did not actually have a dressing room, and all we offered was a small curtained corner for the customers to try things on. There was no door, just an Indian bedspread hung from a curtain rod for privacy. There was no securing the curtain closed, and usually there was a wide crack open for all to see the goings on inside. I did notice that there were many exhibitionists in the 80’s in San Francisco’s downtown at on a weeknight.

Needless to say, there were also many women willing to be handled by another woman in that shop dressing room in those days. In addition, there were always women who would leave the curtains almost completely open as they tried other things on, and there was a good deal of lingerie on display from these women.

At a youthful age, I saw things I never saw before outside of magazines.

For instance, there was one woman who changed clothes in full view of Monet and me as we were all alone in the store. She was wearing long leather boots, open crotch panties, a garter belt, a push up bra, and not much else under her coat. I remember blushing and feeling a warmth and wetness in my pussy that night. She was Asian, young, and very erotic.

I should have followed her to her car. But I didn’t. One that got away, I guess. She could have taught me much, I am sure.

The men who were in the shop would frequently have a hard time avoiding the show. Monet and I had a signal. When either of us would notice an exhibitionist in the dressing room, we would call for a “price check on the water buffalo sandals”. This resulted in both of us meeting near the cash register and having a clear sight of the curtained booth, with the babe inside showing us her pussy, or whatever. This allowed us both to amuse ourselves with the goings on. But it was all innocent fun. Neither she nor I ever got a chance to close the curtains behind us in that dressing booth and get it on with a customer. Pity.

Since she worked under me, (so to speak), and we were both quite proper employees, I certainly behaved myself with her, even though I noticed how attractive she was. Back then, I only was interested in men, and had a boyfriend.

Anyway, that was then, this is now. Since then, I have learned much about how to please men and women, and myself.

Now, years later, at the coffee shop, I saw her in a different way. I felt blood surge when I saw her. I felt a wetness in my pussy that never would have done in my past daily working relationship.

Nowadays, I have few limits on my sexual pleasures, and before I said anything to her, I spent a few moments looking at her body. She was wearing white leather boots that reached her knees, and she had very sexy horizontally striped black and white stockings that kept going up her legs another six or eight inches past her knees. She had on a short black skirt, and a white button up blouse. Slung over her shoulder was a little purse from which she was fumbling for a few dollars to pay for her coffee.

I got up from my table, walked over to her, and said, “Here, let me pay for that…”

She looked up, her eyes widened, and she smiled broadly. She threw her arms around me, hugged me tight, and squealed, “Karen!…How great to SEE you!…”

She kept hugging me, and I certainly appreciated her small breasts pushing into me. I hugged her back, and it lasted a bit longer than gaziantep escort it should have. I made a slight effort to make contact with her body along it’s entire length, as much as was polite…

“I thought it was you…” I said.

“It’s me…how are you?”

Well, it went on a bit there at the counter, small talk, until her coffee was served. I paid for it, and we sat down at my table. There were only a few other customers in the shop.

Listen….. I know you probably don’t really give a crap about this part, so let’s just cut to the chase. I seduced the sweet little girl, or she let me seduce her, and she followed me home in her car. I had promised her some really good wine or some such shit, but we all know it didn’t matter what the hell it was. The main thing was, I got her to come to my place, and we were finally alone. It was

I opened my door, and Monet followed me inside. She glided by me, and tossed her jacket onto the chair near the door. Then she turned to me, and stood there, waiting for me to do something. I didn’t do much. I tossed my sweater over her jacket, smiled, and went into the kitchen. I hoped she was a bit disappointed, or at least feeling slightly awkward and desirous of me. I always find it a bit of fun to play with the emotions of my lovers, it always makes them want it more, and they really love it when I give them what they want. Sometimes, they don’t know exactly what they want, but I do I can tell just by their level of submission, or the subtle hints they drop, trying to be sexy, but in truth, revealing their hidden lusts..

I hoped it was going to work on Monet. I figured I would play with her until she was really hot, and maybe then, give her a crumb. So I busied myself in the kitchen, doing things that did not need to be done, just to make her wait for me in the living room. I called to her, as I washed a couple of glasses…”Just go ahead and make yourself comfortable…I have to check my messages and I’ll be right in. There is vodka and stuff in the cabinet near the couch, and glasses. Fix yourself something if you like.”

She said nothing, but I heard the cabinet open.

I hoped this would frustrate her a tiny bit. I went into my bedroom, and pretending to check my answering machine, I went to my dresser and opened a lingerie drawer. I picked out a garter belt/panty set, some stockings, and an open tip bra, all in powder blue. I grabbed a satin robe, and headed to the bathroom with them, calling back to her, “I’ll be just a moment, Monet…”

I closed the bathroom door.

Then I quickly tossed all my clothes into the hamper, and ran a shower. I jumped in, hurriedly soaped up, washed my hair, and paid special attention to the areas I was going to be offering to Monet shortly. I plunged a bit into my pussy with two soapy fingers, and into my ass with my pinky, making sure I was as clean and fresh as possible. I started to play a bit with myself, knowing what was soon to happen, but forced a quick end to that. After rinsing off, stepping out, and slightly drying my hair with a large fluffy towel, I dabbed just the tiniest bit of perfume on the back of my knees and the small of my back. I rubbed a bunch of coconut oil onto my body, and especially my legs, and slithered my slick pinky into my ass to be sure to moisten the inside of my sweet little butt. I reddened my lips with some very nice glossy lipstick, and ran fresh mascara onto my eyelids and looked deep into the mirror. “Nice”, I thought to myself. I thought I looked good enough to fuck. I dabbed just a bit of the lipstick onto the tips of my nipples, just because I wanted to. I slipped into my little nasty bra. Those fascinating hard red nipples poked through the tips of the bra, and the effect was slutty and made me tingle a bit, and not just at the tips of my nipples.

Rubbing myself a bit more with the oil made me even hotter, knowing there was a woman waiting for me, and I was making her wait. I once again found my finger oiling my ass crack, and my pinky dipped in again, carrying more of the sweet oil inside the forbidden canal. It felt good, knowing I was sooo clean and sweet there. I kind of wished I could do exactly the same thing to Monet just then. It was beginning to get me too worked up, so I slowly withdrew my pinky from inside my ass. Monet was waiting, and I was certainly adequately sweetened and lubed. I wondered if Monet even imagined or desired to take me there. I would make her want to if she did not think of it herself. I looked into the mirror, and I was wearing just an open tip bra. I was such a whore.

I looked down at my soft, warm pussy. I was shaved, except for a thin line of soft hair leading to my very sweet little snatch. I had taken the time to color my soft pussy hair earlier in the week, so my now-pink cunt hair was in contrast to my natural brunette color everywhere else. I think a woman’s pussy is special, like most men do. There is something special about it, right? konya escort I think of it as a bit of treasure only a few lucky people are allowed access to, to play with, and I want it to be a moment of discovery and excitement when I desire and allow a partner to have their way with me. I was ready to choose my lingerie now, and I love playing dress-up.

I picked out a pair of white soft leather pumps, with hot little 4 ½ ” heels. The single tiny ankle strap had a small rhinestone bow on the front, with a tiny, hard to close buckle. These shoes were not made for walking around town; they were made for the bedroom.

Sipping into them, I felt more dominant. I always feel powerful in high heels, especially when wearing them with nasty stockings and a slutty garter belt and other lingerie. I have all the choices in my drawers, and sometimes it is an open tip bra, an open crotch panty, or a little set of garter snaps reaching down to sexy stockings that does it for me.

A slutty appearance makes me feel dominant, knowing the way it makes boys and girls feel, and I get very hot. You know the feeling, like when you are taking a long shower, being sure to lather up real well, and get yourself ready, knowing you are going to fuck hard soon.

Slipping the shoes on over those long, pure, stockings, knowing the soles of these shoes will never get to see the light of day is fun. I wear these types of shoes only for fucking, and it is really hot to fuck a guy and wrap my legs around his waist and see the stilettos reaching behind his ass as I drive his cock deeper into me with my thrusts. There is no reason for them except to excite and tease others, and they often get fondled by my partner for some reason. I guess they just like the feel of the heels as they fuck.

I know Ron really likes to fuck me while I keep the shoes on, and this pair had never been outside of my apartment. They were for one thing, and once again, they were being used for that purpose. Ron has spent a bit of time sucking on the various heels of the shoes I own, and he is always caressing them and stimulating himself in various ways while he fucks me. I think it is cute the way he rubs his dick against that sharp heel, and I love to abuse him with them.

More than once, I have taken one shoe off, and used the heel to shove in into his ass just a tiny bit, and tease him. Maybe an eight of an inch, just enough for him to feel it…sharp, cold, and nasty.

“My, my. This man certainly loves to be fucked by my nasty little shoes, doesn’t he? Look how that tip goes into his ass hole….My my.. Does that hurt, big boy? Does mama hurt your sweet little ass when she shoves this into you, the way you shove your dick into me? Too bad. Take it, baby. I love to fuck your ass with my pretty little shoe… Um…Good boy…”

Then I might make him lick the end of it, just for good measure. He always does. I start by making him lick the toe, but always seem to want him to get to the tip of the heel after messing with his ass a bit. He never minds it. That boy is a real plaything. Man meat, and all mine..

During this, he is grunting with pleasure, letting me abuse him any way I want. At this point, I could really cram it into him, but I wouldn’t want to hurt my baby. I just want him to taste the decadent abuse I am offering. There have been other things I do to him much more nasty that a simple fuck-me shoe violating his butt hole a tiny bit. He always loves my creative talents when I invent an new experiment to try on him.

But my mind has drifted. Back to Monet. I am dressing for her tonight, and I doubt she would be willing to have a stiletto teasing her sweet ass, even the tiniest bit.. She is not a guy who enjoys such things with me. Monet is probably a bit tamer, but I will see.

I looked down, and they were perfect as I saw the brand new stockings surrounded by the sweet white stiletto heels. My garter belt straps reached the tops of the stockings as I pulled them down, and I fastened each of the four fasteners to give those sexy arches to the darkened tops of the stockings that men so love. The private clothing that should never be seen, unless the woman is a bit of a slut. I am, you must know, definitely a slut. And a nasty, creative one, too.

I was taking a bit of time, and I always love the moments I spend crafting a seduction. I love it when I hear a slight intake of breath as one or another bit of clothing is revealed or touched and brings lust to the woman or man spending time and fun with me.

Finished, I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror above the sink. I liked what I saw. I was firm, smoothly oiled, colored and sweetened, and my nipples were very hard, poking out, and alive with lust.

As I walked into the bedroom, I noticed that Monet was ready. I could tell. She was relaxed, lazily looking at me, willing, and ready. Her eyes were heavy, and her lips were wet.

“About time, sweetheart. You look so delicious. kayseri escort Come here. I have been waiting. I want something for myself…..Just a minute…

The words were those of willingness to seduce and be seduced. Either of us could be dominant at this point, and it really did not matter who took over as far as I cared.

Monet stood up, and, absolutely surprising me, walked past me, into my bedroom, and slowly approached my dresser. She opened the top drawer, and began to draw out various things. I followed her in.

“Oh, nice…. Let’s see what else you have here….”, as she looked through the drawers….I was slightly impatient. I am usually the one running the show… Now I was made to wait, but figured I would like Monet sexed up and slutty herself.

My date looked at my things, and poked into the panty section on the right. There, I kept a number of “open-pussy” panties, panties with cute little bows tying things together (temporarily), wonderfully sexy garter belts, panties with built on garter straps, tiny things of all kinds of textures, colors, and fabrics, and a small collection of new, unopened items. I always love my private things… Or, semi-private, I guess I should say.

The next drawer over contained all of my bras, and here there was every type I could find: Open-tipped fuck-me bras, shelf bras to show off my breasts to a current lover, push up bras for evening wear under party dresses, and several tiny black, white, and colored or patterned silky, sheer, or string type bras. None of them were very large, since I have small breasts. The bottom drawers contained shoes, stockings, and several toys of varying sizes and types.

Monet spent some time looking through everything, as if they were hers. I liked the way she was taking over. My next lover picked out a tiny black and purple satiny garter belt, matching purple sheer open crotch panties with satin trim and tiny bows, a black satin push up bra, and grabbed my outrageous, totally unusable-for-walking 6 inch heeled stilettos pumps in black patent leather with, of course, little ankle straps.

She turned and, with the tiny things in her hands, sat on the edge of the bed, and without looking at me, as if alone, she undressed from most of her street clothes, neatly stacked them on a chair nearby, and slowly put all these thing on. She took her time, and ignored me. She wanted me to watch. I was watching, and getting wet as I saw her get sexier as each item went on. I became quite hot in the process. It was a terrific strain to keep away from her as she dressed. She undressed bit by bit, but kept her long stockings on, and stood up, wearing only them. I saw how beautiful and well tended her body was. Her pubes were shaved into a cute little “S”. I don’t know why, and I never found out that night. Her breasts were a bit heavier than mine, and her legs were very long and thin.

Piece by piece, she added to the stockings she kept, and was soon looking every bit the lingerie model.

At last, she walked to the full-length mirror on the inside of my closet door, and looked at my lingerie on her body. She saw my reflection in the mirror as she looked, and turned around and silently looked at me.

“I love feeling this way, and I love the feel of satin when I run my fingers under it”, she said, eyeing me lustfully as she said so.

“Ready?”, she asked.

I was beginning to get a bit warm, and walked towards her and lightly touched her on her shoulder and gently turned her. I was taking it in. I “accidentally” brushed her nipple to test her hardness, and she was very firm. Warm and firm. I paused, went to my makeup dresser, and came back with some things.

“Sit here”, I said, trying to re-tip the balance of sexual power.

She sat on the chair by the bed. I sat on the edge of the bed, set the makeup items I had gathered next to me, and began to apply heavy makeup to her. She liked the attention, and the “finishing off’ she wanted. I tilted her head up to me, as I stood over her, and she sat there demurely while I played the part of a makeup person. Slowly, both of us dressed in my lingerie, in the dim bedroom that had seen so much similar activity with Ron and me, I applied deep purple lipstick, blue eye makeup, and a nice delicate French perfume to her. She was now ready for her date.

I was more than ready. I nodded, and as I sat on the edge of my much-used bed, she stood up, took the makeup things, walked to the dresser, and put them on top. Opening the bottom drawer, she took something out, hid it from me and as she held it behind her back, she stood up and slowly came back to me. She walked towards me slowly, those shoes making it the only way to walk. Her legs were the longest they would ever be, the garter belt straining to clinch the tops of her stockings. I watched every line of her legs as they strained at every point. She knew she was a wonderful fuck, wasn’t she?

Standing over me, she reached down and began to run her hand down the small of my back. I lay back, and onto my stomach, and I rotated my hips and offered her my ass. I was lasciviously rotating and gyrating my hips, and I knew how wanton it was. All I wanted was for her to start invading my forbidden backside, and to take every liberty she wished. I wanted to be her fucktoy, and I wanted it badly.