I’m in love.
I'm so in love.
His bare, strong shoulders are pressing against my body which is on flames, burning like a torch whilst the blood in my veins circulate faster than the particles in the Hadron Collider while my breath halts, my ears fizz from the heat, my nipples grow strong and the butterflies in my abdomen are about to kill each other in their fierce skirmish. His eyes are fearless and tender; staring down on me, without a word or even without performing a slightest eyelid exercise. I fear nothing as his arms descend unhurriedly down my back toward the pair of my round half moons, sticking out like whores on a busy street trying to attract a truck driver. He presses softly into my ass, curving tiny apertures and burying himself into my fresh flesh. My horny corpse succumbs as his hard penis forced its way to my innards and I quietly cried out the groan of a lust…. I think I’m in love.
It was a typical, rainy, almost-afternoon with the sun hidden behind the grey hue of clouds while it tried not to be disturbed by any mortals walking the wet streets, minding their own businesses. I desperately needed a dress for a special occasion, even though it probably wasn’t that special as now I cannot recall what occasion it was for. So, here I am, storming into some random store on the square, only to avoid the annoying shower. I cursed, checked my hair, cursed again as I realized that my hair is absolutely soaked, checked it again then looked around. I was in a gloomy, poorly lit shop with clothes, shoes (I think) and few customers. When I sorted myself out (or more like acknowledging the fact that I will have to stay in this wet attire whether I like it or not) I moved to the closest rail. I started picking up clothes, in no particular order, with no real attention of putting my soul seriously into this unpleasant midday business.
“Can I help you, m’am?”
I lifted up my head and a man, not very tall, but not too short either, was unhurriedly walking towards me.
“Oh…uhm... yeah. I guess so,” was all I could say.
He smiled while exposing his not so perfect teeth which were standing like drunk soldiers in his mouth. I smiled back, realizing that I didn’t give him that usual, casual I-must-smile-back-because-it-is-polite smile, but I sincerely felt amused. There was nothing in particular funny about him though, it was more his special aura which emitted this kind of indescribable happiness and contentment, almost a peace.
“What are you looking for?” he asked, and I briefly described some nonsense. He seemed to understand what I was up for before I was even finished with this bullshitting. He went to an another rail, picked a dress, then to another one, mumbled something, then he moved again to the previous rail (or perhaps it was a new rail, I wasn’t really sure as I didn’t pay much attention anyway), picked another dress and then came back to me with even wider smile:
“Try these. I think I got your size right.”
My eyes were wide open from surprise. I took the dresses from him and turned to go to the changing rooms. The whole process of me trying to fit into the clothes is not interesting at all and so I will skip this part.
When I went out of the fitting room, he was standing nearby, watching my every move, the smile on his face was still there. Just now I realized how beautiful his smile actually was. Despite the imperfection on his face, he was adorable. He had a short nose rounded as a little button, big blue eyes filled with warmth, short stubble on a tanned skin with wide open pores probably from smoking and light brown hair going in every direction. He wasn't exactly groomed, however it suited him so perfectly that I wouldn't want to change a thing on him.
He smiled again. I seriously couldn’t read him- was he just being too polite, only to please his customer? Or was he flirting with me? But then, I always assume that everyone is flirting with me…
“This doesn’t fit,” I said rather critically while correcting the dress on my breasts. I had a strapless push up bra, even though my double gees really don’t need that much help. The black material of my lingerie was peeking out from the sides of the low cut dress. The dress was made of, for me some strange, unknown dark green material, shiny under the light. It was straight across my chest, showing the top line of the thousand-times washed cups of the bra. I looked suspiciously on my torso while still trying to pull up the clothes in order to cover excess black material. The guy walked toward me (still smiling, now probably at my squashed boobs in this fucking small dress), and asked :
“May I ?” because I had no idea what he actually intended to do, I uhm-ed and he came closer. He actually grabbed the dress and in a very professional manner fiddled with it, shifted it to one side, I think he corrected the bra as well and then turned me to face the mirror. His cologne and warm of his fingers made me wet, but then I didn’t have sex in almost a year. Everything would make me wet at this point.
“My boobs are just too squashed in the dress, I dunno…”
“What are you looking for?” he asked, and I briefly described some nonsense. He seemed to understand what I was up for before I was even finished with this bullshitting. He went to an another rail, picked a dress, then to another one, mumbled something, then he moved again to the previous rail (or perhaps it was a new rail, I wasn’t really sure as I didn’t pay much attention anyway), picked another dress and then came back to me with even wider smile:
“Try these. I think I got your size right.”
My eyes were wide open from surprise. I took the dresses from him and turned to go to the changing rooms. The whole process of me trying to fit into the clothes is not interesting at all and so I will skip this part.
When I went out of the fitting room, he was standing nearby, watching my every move, the smile on his face was still there. Just now I realized how beautiful his smile actually was. Despite the imperfection on his face, he was adorable. He had a short nose rounded as a little button, big blue eyes filled with warmth, short stubble on a tanned skin with wide open pores probably from smoking and light brown hair going in every direction. He wasn't exactly groomed, however it suited him so perfectly that I wouldn't want to change a thing on him.
He smiled again. I seriously couldn’t read him- was he just being too polite, only to please his customer? Or was he flirting with me? But then, I always assume that everyone is flirting with me…
“This doesn’t fit,” I said rather critically while correcting the dress on my breasts. I had a strapless push up bra, even though my double gees really don’t need that much help. The black material of my lingerie was peeking out from the sides of the low cut dress. The dress was made of, for me some strange, unknown dark green material, shiny under the light. It was straight across my chest, showing the top line of the thousand-times washed cups of the bra. I looked suspiciously on my torso while still trying to pull up the clothes in order to cover excess black material. The guy walked toward me (still smiling, now probably at my squashed boobs in this fucking small dress), and asked :
“May I ?” because I had no idea what he actually intended to do, I uhm-ed and he came closer. He actually grabbed the dress and in a very professional manner fiddled with it, shifted it to one side, I think he corrected the bra as well and then turned me to face the mirror. His cologne and warm of his fingers made me wet, but then I didn’t have sex in almost a year. Everything would make me wet at this point.
“My boobs are just too squashed in the dress, I dunno…”
I said and he chuckled. He faced me and fiddled with the dress some more, this time touching my huge breasts which I felt were just filling up and raising to the skies as my panties were probably soaking like crazy. I now had more time to observe the object of my fantasy. His stable was really sexy and he had this strangely thin lips which I would still refer to as ‘mucho’ kissable. His fingers were long, hands big and warm. Perhaps too warm.
I even don’t know how, I suddenly ended up at the till paying for the dress, my boobs still hurting from trying to pop out of the bra, out of the dress, out of the store, country, just to get out… the guy was still smiling, asking me to fill up my details on the back of the receipt which he needs to keep for some unknown purposes blah blah and he will give me another receipt blah blah and so on and so forth and after another utterly boring nonsense he asked me if I wrote down the correct phone number. I said yes, while glancing at him with a cheeky smile, then looking down, trying to look embarrassed, then looking up again playing the game of an innocent girl who is not even realizing what is happening.
He called me the next day. We had a drink, a burger and a good laugh. Then the next day we went to the cinema and shared some more laughter and for the first time I saw him in a very tight t-shirt which exposed his strong shoulders as they wanted to rip the material apart and tell me “I’m yours, take me!”
So here we are, in my room, making love passionately, whispering dirty things into each others ears and succumbing in orgasmic bursts.
I even don’t know how, I suddenly ended up at the till paying for the dress, my boobs still hurting from trying to pop out of the bra, out of the dress, out of the store, country, just to get out… the guy was still smiling, asking me to fill up my details on the back of the receipt which he needs to keep for some unknown purposes blah blah and he will give me another receipt blah blah and so on and so forth and after another utterly boring nonsense he asked me if I wrote down the correct phone number. I said yes, while glancing at him with a cheeky smile, then looking down, trying to look embarrassed, then looking up again playing the game of an innocent girl who is not even realizing what is happening.
He called me the next day. We had a drink, a burger and a good laugh. Then the next day we went to the cinema and shared some more laughter and for the first time I saw him in a very tight t-shirt which exposed his strong shoulders as they wanted to rip the material apart and tell me “I’m yours, take me!”
So here we are, in my room, making love passionately, whispering dirty things into each others ears and succumbing in orgasmic bursts.
No comments:
Post a Comment