“We, um…” The sales lady has to clear her throat. “We have panties, sir, with an…opening in the crotch. They come in a variety of colors. Would you like to see some of those? You wouldn’t have to, um…pull anything down.”
“Just my zipper,” he mutters, twisting my hair tighter in his grip. “Yes. Bring lingerie, too. We’ll require a wide selection, please. See-through only. Daddy likes to see that pussy.”
I almost hit the plushy carpeted floor.
My skin is on fire, toes curled, muscles aching from the strain of need.
“Yes, sir,” chokes the woman. “Right away.”
The sales lady exits through the curtains and as soon as she’s gone, I make a wild sobbing sound, my hands groping for the walls. “Jack. I can’t…I can’t…”
“Yes, you can, little girl.” He spanks me with a firm hand. “You love it. You need it.”
“I can’t t-try on clothes like this.”
Jack walks me forward until I’m caught between him and the mirrored wall, my staccato breaths obscuring my reflection. I’ve been so overwhelmed by what he’s doing to me in front of the sales lady that I haven’t stopped to consider how it’s affecting him. But I can see his eyes now in the mirror, over the top of my head. Can see the blue smoke and heavy lids, the tension around his mouth. “Don’t worry. If you can’t try the clothes on, Maisy,” he says, pushing my skirt down to the floor, “I’ll put them on you myself.”
I try to imagine standing here, trying not to combust while this man slides elegant fabrics all over my skin and I know I won’t make it. I’ll burst into flames. “Take me home,” I beg, trying to turn around. “You can come inside me. Please.”
He doesn’t let me turn, using his much stronger body to crowd me back against the mirror, his hand capturing my jaw and angling it up. “Didn’t take you long to start begging for it, huh, baby?” His touch drags down from my jaw, all the way to the juncture of my thighs where he grabs hold of my sex. “You want some hot, messy come in this pussy, you greedy girl?”
“Yes. Yes, Jack, please.”
Tucking a long finger into the waistband of my white panties, he tugs them slowly down my thighs and my breath fogs on the mirror. Faster, faster. I can feel the enormous ridge of his erection on the top curve of my backside, his heartbeat slamming against my shoulder. “I’m going to pump you so full,” he pants, his tongue licking up the side of my neck. “You might have been mad I broke my promise, but you loved that I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop thrusting with those sweet little virgin muscles locking down around me.”
Yes. Until he makes the sensual accusation, I don’t realize how true it is. Despite the aftermath, the moment was drugging. Perfect. “I need you like that now, Jack.”
He strips my shirt off over my head, rendering me naked. “Soon.”
“No.” Frustration makes me sob. “Now.”
How am I supposed to wait when he devours the sight of my nude body in the mirror, shaking his head and muttering a curse? When he strokes his fingertips down the curves of my hips, his lips tracing the slope of my neck. And that heavy, hungry part of him that remains trapped behind his fly is dragged side to side against my bottom until I’m once again trying desperately to turn around, to unzip his pants and beg to be taken.
Jack doesn’t allow it, though, keeping me pinned, relentlessly assaulting my nerve endings with skilled scrapes of palms and nicks of teeth on my skin. Oh God. I’m going to have an orgasm from his touch alone, the buildup, the illicitness of being intimate in a dressing room, Jack fully dressed, me without a stitch of clothing on. Just when I’m positive the crest is happening and my bare thighs are rasping anxiously against his suit pants, the dressing room curtain opens and the sales lady breezes in with a full, rolling rack of clothing and lingerie.
My eyes meet Jack’s in the mirror. I plead with him silently, although I don’t know exactly for what. To take me home…to take me, period, no matter who is watching. I’m so hot and thirsty for fulfilment, I can barely remember my own name. Only know I need.
“Do you trust me?” Jack whispers in my ear.
I nod, no hesitation, and I don’t miss the gratitude in his eyes.
“What shall we try on first?” asks the woman, apparently not fazed by the fact that I’m completely clothing free and Jack’s hands are all over me.
Lifting his mouth from my neck, Jack presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek for a moment. “The panties you mentioned. Red, if you have it.”