“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I wince a second after realizing I had just smacked this guy’s back with a stack of evening gowns I had swung over my shoulder.
He turns around and flashes me the sweetest shy smile of perfect white teeth. I am lost in his dimples. His soft laugh of surprise radiates in his piercing blue eyes.
“It’s alright.” A Scottish accent rings through my ears as his 6′ 2″ height towers over me. “It serves me right for standing so close to the ladies’ dressing room. Good security for the peeves around.”
What? My eyebrows lift toward him. I was thinking he was cute, but now I’m not so sure about that peeve near the dressing room comment.
“Not to say, I want to stalk you in the dressing room,” he stutters out. “I mean I’m not a pervert who stalks women in dressing rooms, all women.”
We exchange an awkward silent look as he rubs his short reddish-blond hair nervously. I just stand back and stare as his cream shirt shifts tightly during his arm movement, showing his broad shoulders down to his slim waist. My eyes lead back over his nice form to his well-built biceps. For the first time in a long time, I have no words.
As I gawk at his muscular form hidden under that sexy linen shirt, I don’t know what to say or do next. Normally, after you apologize for hitting someone upside the head, they walk away. But he wasn’t walking away. He just stares at me with that soft smile. My heavy breasts warm as my brown nipples perk up at the attention of those blue eyes.
“Well, I’m just gonna…” He walks off embarrassed.
Too bad. He is cute. He must be one of those celery eaters.
“Okay, bye,” I manage to say, a bit disappointed.
I trace my hand over a few dresses hanging on the wall. Nothing shouts out at me. Some are too short. Others are too long. Many are too skinny. A few were cute, but I could never pull off thin straps and backless. These double Ds need support.
I spot a pink dress with a decent neck strap that might work. I bend down and search behind to find my size when I feel something soft and round wall press into my butt. Immediately, I straighten up and turn around.
Slamming into a long solid wall of white linen, I almost lose my footing until a pair of large white hands grab hold of my arms and steadies me. My hands press up against two strong pecks.
“Oh, so sorry,” I hear the same familiar Scottish accent and my panties get moist.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” I joke. “Soon, one of us is gonna get seriously injured.”
I felt the vibration of his chuckle through his warm chest before I realize that I have been touching him longer than need be. I slowly back away.
“Huh, while I have you here, can I ask what would be an appropriate gift for a woman such as yourself?” He asks while shifting his eyes to the ground.
“It was just a quick bump,” I say. “You don’t have to buy me anything. A sorry was fine.”
“No, the gift is for my sister,” he explains. “I want to get her something she might use. Instead of smiling thanks and throwing it in the back of a wardrobe to never be seen again.”
I laugh at his straight pan face, and then, he chuckles with me. How he looks at me it seems like he’s interested. Should I go for it? Lord knows when will be the next time I get to have some European dicking.
“You’re funny,” I say with a flirty smile. “A bit awkward but funny.”
“I blame that on being the only Scottish kid in an English boarding school. It was ten years of being uncomfortable and awkward.”
“Boarding school, huh?” I nod. He comes from money. He must be just polite. Probably seems interested in everyone he meets. It’s in the breeding. “Well, at least your parents could give you a good education.”
“No, I just think they didn’t like children,” he grins. “They shipped me away until I was old enough to have a decent conversation.”
“Hmm,” I scrunch up my face and add, “Semi-decent.”
“Touché.” I laugh at his agreement.
“You have a beautiful smile and a lively laugh,” he comments.
His eyes are dark and sincere as he looks into mine. Suddenly, my knees are weak, and my calves shake a bit. Heat runs from my cheeks down to the back of my neck. My back straightens up at the slight damp spray exploding in my panties.
I may need to buy a new dress and a fresh pair of undies if he keeps this sweet attention going.
He’s probably just being friendly, I think. Look at me fangirling over a Scottish stranger. Like he would want my chubby ass.
Now I am the awkward and shy one. I finger through a few outfits on a nearby round rack, giving him an out to leave. Even though, I’d loved to continue talking to him.
“So,” he clears his throat. “What is the special occasion?”
“Yes,” I look at the stack of evening dresses in my arms. “I’m going to an awards ceremony tonight.”
“Oh, how fun!
“Yeah, that’s why I need a dress,” I throw my hands up in frustration. “I just can’t find one.”
He moves close to my back. I feel the heat of his breath swipe over my ears, leaving feather touches that electrify the rapid pace in my neck. “How about I make a proposition?” His husky whisper swirls around my ears, curling my toes as my vagina flexes.
Oh Lord, I am thirsty.
Suddenly, I’m imagining his member entering me from behind and in that same husky voice asking me if I want it harder.
I glance back at him in an uncertain daze. Could I be hoping too much that this is vaguely familiar to what Demi Moore had with Robert Redford? Confused as to if I am still in my own fantasy, I’m a bit scared of how to react and intrigued about where he’ll put his manhood.
I turn around to face him. “Can I get a name before we start handing out favors, honey?” I smile.
“Grant Turner,” he offers a hand.
Good to know what name I’ll be screaming out tonight.
I take his offered hand. It’s soft and smooth but the handshake is firm.
“Colette Hill. But people call me Coco.”
“Nice to meet you, Coco,” he holds my hand for a time. His thumb lightly grazes over my palm. He keeps his closeness to me as the scent of spicy wood float toward me.
His hand soon pulls away from mine, leaving my hand a chilly sensation from the lack of his warm touch. I’m a bit saddened by this. Yet excited that his determined stare holds me as he asks, “How about you help me avoid a re-gifting catastrophe, and I help you find the perfect dress?”
After that sexy moment, all he wants to do is go shopping? Damn, he’s gay. No wonder we get along so well. I suck back my freaky hopes.
“What makes you think you know what the perfect dress for me would be?”
“I’m a heterosexual guy,” he points out.
Oh, okay, keep talking.
I resistant myself from falling into my fantasies of licks and kisses down his chest to concentrate on his words.
He continues, “I think I can tell you what looks good and what doesn’t. Although, I’m not sure if you’ll find it here.”
“You want me to model clothes for you in exchange for picking out a gift for your sister?”
“Sounds creepy, I know, but I promise to be gentle,” he says. I don’t think he understood the implications of having sex until he continues with, “And we can stop when you have had enough.”
A sneaky grin pulls at his pink lips. It’s contagious, and I smile back.
Don’t tease me, white boy.
I don’t know what came over me but the moment I saw Coco I was fixed. Those round curves over perfect chocolate skin. She is a sexy bitch even in a plain sweater and trousers. I want to nibble at her bare shoulder that her black sweater loosely hangs on.
As soon as I saw that easy smile, I knew I had to get to know her. She seems so happy and easy-going. I want to get that energy in me. She has such an infectious nature that I don’t care who is around. I can be as crazy and loud as I want to. It is a world with just me and Coco.
I wonder if her moan is as big as her laugh. I would love to find out.
“Is yellow my color?”
“Hmmm, good point,” I point a thoughtful finger on my lips. I keep it there, enjoying how her almond-shaped brown eyes linger on my lips.
Yeah, imagine your nipple there. I bet they are the size of dark silver dollars. I shift my weight to try a subtle adjust my hardening dick.
Coco’s eyes shift downwards before she can see how hard she is getting me. I distract her by taking the dress away from Coco.
“I don’t think so,” I say quickly. “Maybe…”
I stop in mid-sentence when Coco slips on a part of a long skirt from one of the collections of dresses in her arms. As they drop to the floor in a fury of satin over chocolate skin, instinct kicks in and I grab her before she falls.
For a moment I have her held close to my body. Her face is buried in my chest. I can smell the strong scent of lavender and shea butter from the pieces of her curly black hair which tickles my nose. My hardness rubs against her, and I fight back the urge to rub into those soft curves.
She turns her surprised face up to me and again I am hypnotized by how pretty she is.
“I guess that was a sign to try these on, instead of lugging them around through the store,” she says.
I reluctantly lean her upright. Careful not to have her feel how much my body wants her. She takes a step back and looks at the floor.
My hand instinctively brushes a small curl from her round cheekbones. I let it linger there enjoying the close touch of her smooth skin. How I wish she was mine. Or maybe I could make that happen.
Coco looks up her eyes unreadable. I start to think maybe I’m being too forward and may scare her away, so I drop my hand.
Taking the bundle of dresses off the floor, I force the desire out of my voice and say cheerfully, “Let’s see how these look on you.”
“This is the twelfth dress we’ve tried,” Coco calls over the curtain. “Nothing seems to be right.”
The frustration in her voice upsets me. She had tried on a lot of outfits that were okay but did nothing to enhance the beauty she has. I know anyone outside of a size 8 will have trouble finding something here but this is ridiculous. This store needs more options than a baggy skirt and long sleeves to address the style of plus-size women.
“Let me see this one,” I voice out. “It might not be as bad as you think.”
“I can’t give it on,” she calls back. After some grunts, she lets out an exhausted sigh, “It’s impossible. I’m too…”
I rush over to the curtain and say softly, “You’re too beautiful to let this dress beat you. The designers here are terrible and lazy. Anyone can make a small bit of cloth to go around a flagpole. It’s like suiting a long umbrella in a case.”
My heart breaks at the muffled cry I hear behind the curtain. I quietly slip into the small square room. Her back is to me. The orange dress hangs on her shoulders. Its back zipper was mismatched at the middle of her back.
Through the long mirror, I see her head in her hands. “Don’t do that,” I gather her in my arms. A rage to burn this store to the ground flows through me as I hold her close. My hands rub up and down her upper back. Her skin is so soft. Her lavender perfume is intoxicating.
Without thinking, I place my head on her shoulder near the crock of her neck and inhale deeper. “You are the hottest women I have ever met in a department store.”
She sniffs out a laugh. “So, you do spend a lot of time near a women’s dressing room?”
It’s good to have her good humor back. I hated to see such a strong woman cry over her shape. She is too good a person for all that nonsense.
“Not as much time as I have done today,” I admit. “But I work pretty close with clothing sales. A good businessperson should get to know the product they handle.”
Then, it occurred to me that she didn’t know what I did. She thought I was some average guy. I like that. We were getting to know each other without the stress of my family’s money.
I liked her clueless to the multi-million clothing business I control. It felt a bit naughty keeping that secret. I was mysterious in that way. Maybe she might think it sexier.
“You are in the business of selling clothes, huh?” Coco asks, her face buried in my chest. Where it always should be if not buried in a pillow with me thrusting behind her.
Even though my shirt feels a bit wet from shredded tears, I was happy that the tears in her throat were slowly disappearing. But I still want to keep part of my identity away from her.
“Something like that,” I shrug. Slightly changing the subject, I add, “This store sucks anyway.”
“Is that your professional opinion?” I could feel a dubious lift of her eyebrow through the fabric in my chest. My hands start to roam down her back. I can’t fight back from moving them all over her soft curves. “Or are you trying to sabotage your competition?”
“You got me. My job is to stake women’s fitting rooms to tell them not to buy from stores out of my region,” I smile and give her neck a quick kiss.
My hands stop on her round ass when I realize what I had just done. Holding her close to me smelling her scent while my hands curve around each inch of her makes it natural to give her a quick peck.
My dick had claimed her the first time her plump ass pushed against it earlier. Why shouldn’t my hands and lips too?
I feel her body go tense, making me think I may have crossed a line. She takes a step back and my arms drop to my side. Raising my gaze to meet hers, I’m afraid I’ve have just fucked all this up.
Then, I see the beauty of her now darkened brown eyes. They weren’t disgusted or angry. Instead, they were filled with surprise and desire. Or is that what I want her to have? A desire as big as my own to be.
My heated gaze caressed her dark brown skin down to her large, brown, round breasts which were smashed against the top of the gown. I imagined them bouncing underneath me before leaning down to cover one with my mouth. Drawing the tight tip in with my tongue as I continue to pump my cock deep inside her wetness.
But politeness snaps me back to reality. “I’m sor…”
“You’re right,” she interrupted my apology. “This place sucks. Let’s get out of here.”
I nod my acceptance of the offer as well as her not acknowledging the small kiss I gave. Maybe she thought it was me being a friend. Good save. She is so kind not to embarrass me with a straight-out rejection.
I drop my hands and reluctantly take a step back from her.
This is what happens when women don’t know how much your net worth is. They treat you like the real thing. She’s obviously not interested. I will have to accept that. But keeping my money a secret didn’t really get me the desired effect. I can’t give up now, can I?
“Okay, I’ll just…,” I motion to leave but I can’t seem to move. My body doesn’t want to go but my manners say I should give her some privacy.
“Before you go, can you help me with this?” She turns and indicates the makeshift zipper in the back.
“Sure.” I try to undo the zip, but it’s stuck. After a few attempts, I curse out, “Bloody hell!”
My hands grip the side and I tear the flimsy orange material apart. The destruction of the gown is releasing my sexual frustration and anger at her rejection. I watch the therapeutic, ruined fabric land on the fitting room floor.
Huffing with adrenaline, I catch a glimpse of Coco in the mirror. Her red lace bra and panties make my blood run down to my crotch as my eyes trace over the mountains of her large cinnamon brown breasts, over her small tummy, across her wide hips, and past her shapely legs.
I finally am conscious of what I am doing, and I flash an embarrassed apologetic look on her face. A grin crosses her face. And I feel myself grow harder.
“You really don’t like this place,” she giggles and turns around to face me. “You’re paying for that by the way. You rip it, you buy it. It’s in the fine print of the dressing room handbook.”
Her confidence in being half-naked in front of me is a bigger turn-on. Before she was this fragile self-conscious creature in an outfit that did nothing for her voluptuous frame, but in that lingerie of red lace, it fit her body perfectly. She looks good. And she owns it. She is a queen.
“Doesn’t matter,” I mumble as my eyes swept down to her more than one handful-sized tits. “I’ll burn every item of clothes in here just to see you walk around in that.”
She gave out another laugh. I love her laugh. It brings me to the attention of her lips. Soft, thick lips I have to taste.
I’m not sure who had moved first, but a second later my mouth is close to hers, and an electricity shot goes through them. My lips open up to take her tongue inside.
My tongue swept inside her mouth, brushing hers in a tangled dance. My hands ache to touch her breasts. Kissing her deeper, my hand slips between them to cup a portion of her soft boob. My thumb rubs across the hard tip, dragging a desperate sound from her.
My thickness presses against her telling her I’m aroused. My mouth trails the skin along her neck and shoulders, and I huskily whisper to her, “You are so damned beautiful.”
The smell of her lavender scent rolls in my nostrils. Soon her arms wrap around my neck. I move my lips back to hers. She kisses me right back, meeting my demands with those of her own. Holding nothing back, her tongue mates with mine as it twirled up and down while her body melts into me. Her hips rock back and forth, making her pelvis dry hump over my bulge and I feel each stroke into my groin. Up and down. Exactly what I want to do inside her.
I lean her against the wall. Her right leg comes up and I catch it in my hand. She’s wide open for me. My hand travels to hook inside of her red lacey panties. Her husky breath pumps into my ear, saying, “Yass, get that cookie moist.”
As commanded, my long fingers penetrated her, rubbing at her g-spot. A long moan escapes from her. I recapture her mouth to keep her quiet. She moans into my mouth as my fingers work against her soaked panties.
Then she pushes my lips away to nibble on my earlobe. My cock is rock hard and burning to get free from my trousers.
Then to my happy surprise, I accidentally let out a shaky grunt when I feel Coco’s hand cup my dick. She slides her firm palm up, gripping my upper shaft in her small hands as her thumb rubs around my tip.
I’m iron hard. Her hand wrapped around my thick cock is so hot. I moan as she squeezes it. I’m dizzy from her kisses and her touch.
She is making me so horny. I have to take her now. Slipping my hands out of her panties, I turn her around and bend her over, trapping her head against the mirror. Her wide mouth opens in pleasure.
“Yes, put it in,” she breathily begs. “Gimme some of that foreign sausage.”
I shake my head. Not yet, I think. I want to taste her some more before I nut.
I kiss down her back, urging myself not to rip off her panties as I did that awful dress. I slip them down as I kiss past her ass, stopping to bite into the fleshy brown rump. Then, my lips travel to her inner thigh and down her calves before moving the panties from her toes.
She buckles to her knees. Now, she is on all fours. She’s open wider for my handwork.
My other hand wraps possessively over one of her wide breasts. Massaging it with occasional light squeezes.
My fingers move over her the front lips of her vagina. I stroke a tiny circle over her clit. Soon, she moves along with my hand. Her hips rolling in a sexual dance of pleasure.
Soon, her hand reaches from behind her as it searches past my boxer’s waistband for my throbbing dick. Once she has a grip on it, her head turns towards me, and I suck on her lips.
My cock in her hand, her tongue in my mouth, Coco kisses, strokes, and moans. I feel the energy pulsing in her clit, in her nipples, to the empty ache between her legs, to the scorching heat of her soaking flesh against my palm.
Satisfied that it was still very wet, I unbuckle my trousers with one hand. Then, I lick my fingers of the other hand, tasting the sweet saltiness of her moist pussy. I rub my glistening digits over my cock.
“I need it now,” she cries through clenched teeth.
Bending down, I lead the head of my cock to her ready entrance. I feel the outside grip on my throbbing mushroom tip.
Suddenly, I hear a loud bang behind us. Shite!
“You can’t do that in here!” shouts a thick country accent behind the curtain.
We look in the mirror, staring at each other in stillness. Then, I growl through clenched teeth, “Grant, don’t you dare stop.”
That is all the permission he needs. Fuck the pounding on the doorframe, it’s nothing compared to the pounding he’s gonna give me.
I hear him reach into his wallet and retrieve a rubber for his saluted solider.
“I’m really…,” I licked my lips and breath out, “enjoying this afternoon.”
“Well, let’s make sure we give the old girl a show, ah?” He smiles down at me before he buries his length fully inside of me.
I feel my eyes bulge out in shock. Damn, he is big. I know I haven’t had any in a while, but I almost feel that in the back of my throat.
“Sorry, are you okay?” He stills and looks down at me with concern.
I nod my head and take a deep breath. My legs are still wobbly from the first entry. I try to move under him but can’t. I desperately plead, “Fuck me. I want you so badly. Don’t stop fucking me.”
“You’re so wet,” he says as he pulls out slowly before thrusting back in.
The top of my toes spasm with every hard thrust. Pleasure mixed with pain engulfs me. Soon, I cry out for more as I round my hips back into his pelvis.
“Your pussy is so tight,” he points out. Soon my movements match his and we are moving faster with every one of his long strokes. “Yeah” he responds between my moans. “Cum on this dick, babe! Get fucked proper!”
Raising my gaze to the mirror I meet his, I love the beauty of his darkened blue eyes. I gasped and gripped his shoulders. Feeling stretched and filled, I feel my pussy tightening around his swollen cock. I know I’m close.
His heated gaze strokes down my skin as my brown breasts bounce between us. Leaning down, he captures one in his mouth, sucking on the tight tip as he continues to pump his cock deep into me.
All my senses center on the peak of ultimate sensual pleasure. I bit down on my lower lip and beads of sweat popped out on my forehead. I don’t want this to end but I feel my sexual pleasure coming.
Then, when Grant fingers my clit, I bellow out my second orgasm like he had plucked a harp string. He quickly silences my cries as he palms the back of my head and places his mouth on mine in a passionate kiss. He continues to thrust into me as I tremble underneath him.
Soon, I feel a tense crease in movement as I swallow his groan. His body vibrates through me. We kiss and fuck through the tremors into another orgasm.
While he lays his head on my raising back, somewhere in the distance, we giggle at the startling sound from a pissed off saleswoman, saying, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call the police.”
I’m a freelance writer specializing in creative writing, teaching methods of Literature and ESL, and sex advice. Hire me at firstname.lastname@example.org.