*** The Realization ***
It was shortly after I had checked in at the airport hotel – the venue for my business meeting – that I realized I had forgotten to pack my underwear. Of course, I had to recheck my luggage four times before I finally convinced myself that I had done it. It was not an auspicious start to the trip.
So what were my options? I could always “going commando…” or not. There’s something worrisome about having my vital bits next to zipper teeth. No, there was nothing left to do but to go to the mall to restock.
The problem was that the closest mall was one of those snooty “fashion malls,” which features valet parking for those who don’t get dropped off by their chauffeurs. I probably should have tried to find a regular department store, but being way out at the airport, I didn’t want to drive all the way into the city. So I jumped in my rental car and made my way to the Mecca of consumerism.
Wandering along the mezzanine level, I inspected countless stores whose names I had never heard of before and whose product lines were difficult to discern from the little that was on display. In one store, there was a single glass bowl on a table in the middle of an empty floor, and the remainder of the store was painted yellow… I walked on.
Finally, I found a store that exhibited five half-torso mannequins wearing boxers and briefs. It was called “Essence…” close enough… I took a chance and walked in. A sign in the window read, “Positions available for Fitting Assistants and Release Attendants. Must be at least 18 years old to apply. Discretion required. “
Surveying the store, I didn’t see anyone, staff or clients, and so it didn’t surprise me that they were hiring. What the hell is a Release Attendant? Why was “discretion” stipulated? And was there anyone even working here?
I wandered about the store in an attempt to check out their selection, guessing that it must be more than what was on display, but I couldn’t find any merchandise to look at. What the mannequins were wearing was okay, but based on the silkiness of the material, I guessed that they probably each cost more than I wanted to pay for my whole purchase.
*** The Assessment ***
As I reached the rear of the store, I suddenly noticed a gorgeous woman standing behind a service counter. She must have sneaked in when my back was turned. When she noticed me, she walked over. She was tall, graceful, dignified… and sultry. “Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted me, “My name is Katherine. Welcome to Essence. “
Katherine’s smoky, faintly accented voice caught my attention, and her shapely, ravishing figure didn’t let it go. As she walked toward me, her silky, black hair swished lightly on the shoulders of her dark blue, tailored suit, and her full breasts bounced provocatively beneath her black, silk top. Underneath her short skirt, the lacy tops of her black stockings played peek-a-boo with the outside world with each step of her long, thin legs and each click of her black, high-heeled shoes.
When she finally stopped in front of me, I was transfixed by her enigmatically dark eyes – were they green or brown? – and heavy, black eyebrows. “Who are you looking for today?” she asked.
“Huh? Oh, well, YOU can serve me, if that’s okay,” I answered and was puzzled when she giggled.
“No, sir,” she clarified, “Which designer’s line did you have in mind?”
I hesitated, not knowing how to answer her. “I’m just here to buy some underpants,” I explained.
She chuckled again. “First time to our store, sir?”
“Yes, first time to the city in fact. “
She walked over to the service counter to pick up a clipboard, appeared to push some type of button on the desk and returned. “And what is your name?” she asked, preparing to fill out her form.
“Uh… Davis… Harvey Davis. Look, I just wanted to grab a couple packages of Haines and be on my way. Maybe I’ve come to the wrong store. “
She grasped my forearm to symbolically prevent me from leaving. “Nonsense, Mr Davis. I’m sure that you will be more than satisfied with what we are going to offer you. ” She let go of my arm and scanned down the form on the clipboard. “So Mr Davis,” she said with a wry smile, “Here’s a simple question for you… Boxers or briefs?”
Hey, now there’s a question I could answer. “Briefs,” I said, “I’ve never been one for boxers. “
“Okay, sir. Biker, sports, hip, executive, low rise, bikini, thong, jock, French cut, or Brazilian cut… “
“Button, clip, snap, or clasp… “
“Y-front, seamless, or pocket. “
“Uh,” I stammered, “Maybe I should point out that my wife usually buys my underwear. “
“That’s all right, sir,” Katherine said reassuringly, stepping forward and putting her hand on my shoulder. “Do you mind if I just take a quick peek so that I can pick out a few options?” She set the clipboard on a side table just as someone emerged from a back room.
“Yeah, sure. I… uh… What?” I couldn’t have heard the question correctly, bahis firmaları but I was distracted by the young girl walking towards us. She must be at least 18 years old to work here, but she didn’t look much older than that. She was wearing a black, suede, mini-skirt that was just an inch too long to show some cheek and a light grey sweater that was just a size too small to conceal her bra-less status – based on her evident nipples and jiggly bounce. Her oval-shaped face featured unconfident eyes but a devilish grin, and her dusty blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail that tried to be professional but couldn’t hide her girlish youthfulness.
Then, Katherine jolted my attention back to her as her hands undid my belt and zipper in the middle of the store. Out of embarrassment, I quickly surveyed our surroundings to see who would see us, but luckily, I continued to be the only customer.
“Ah, Becky,” said Katherine, as she held my pants away from my body to inspect my underwear, “Could you hold these for a second? I just want to check out a few things. ” Behind me, Becky grabbed the sides of my pants and let them droop to about mid-thigh. “
“Becky, give me your guess of the seat type,” Katherine asked. I felt two eyes behind me running over my exposed bottom. Meanwhile, Katherine cupped her hand… my goodness… around my package and bounced it lightly up and down. “Maybe a K?” replied Becky with a very young voice.
“Really?” challenged Katherine, who had finished handling my bulge and began pulling on the waistband and fingering the material of my shorts.
A small hand slid tentatively down one of my butt cheeks and lightly cupped the curve at the bottom. “An L?… A J?… “
Katherine smiled at her uncertainty. “Here, let me take the pants. Reach around, and tell me his pouch fit. “
Becky’s head snaked under my arm from behind and peered over my hip towards my groin. When she got into position, she turned her head to grin up at me as if to apologize for the awkwardness of the situation. What a great smile! It was a combination of impishness and embarrassment. Then she looked back. “A 22 medium or maybe a 21 deep?”
“Becky, you can’t tell just by looking,” mentored Katherine. “Here,” she said, grabbing Becky’s hand and placing it under my balls, “Mr Davis won’t bite. ” Becky giggled and squeezed my balls gingerly. I wondered if she could feel me firming up. The back of her neck looked bright red. “Ahm, I’m not sure,” Becky replied in resignation.
“Okay, never mind. We need a complete work-up anyways,” Katherine concluded, interrupting Becky’s inspection and refastening my pants, “Why don’t you take Mr Davis into the back, get Yumiko to prep him, and then do a full set of measurements. I’ll join you later for the fitting… You don’t mind letting Becky do the fitting, do you Mr Davis? She has only just started with us, but I think you will be in good hands. “
“No, of course not,” I responded, with my cock rising to confront me in the event that I did not answer correctly. This was turning into some shopping trip. What was it I came in here for again? Oh, yeah – underpants.
*** The Preparation ***
Katherine picked up the clipboard and made some more entries, while Becky took me by the hand and led me through the door where she had entered. Her hand was young, soft and cool to the touch. We walked down a little hallway and into a glass-doored locker room.
“Yumi?” called out Becky, prompting a little Oriental girl in a tight-fitting, one-piece, black swimsuit to appear from behind a line of lockers.
“Yumi, this Mr Davis,” Becky instructed Yumiko in broken English.
“Hie, Mis-ter Da-vis, hie,” repeated Yumiko to Becky with confirmatory little head bows.
“You do prep. I come back 10 minutes. “
“Hie, 10 minutes… You want all done?”
“Yes, Yumi. Do normal prep. ” Becky turned on her heels and left through the door we had entered.
“Hie,” Yumiko responded with a quick bow to the closing door. She then took me by the hand and led me to a locker space in a nearby row. After gesturing me to sit on the wooden bench in front, she retrieved a large, fluffy towel from a wall counter and placed it on the bench beside me. Then she began to undo my shirt.
“Um… There might be some mistake,” I tried to help her out, “I’m just here for underpants. “
Yumiko looked at me somewhat puzzled. “I do prep,” she advised me, somewhat insistently.
I marvelled at how incredibly young she looked, although I knew that she must be over 18 to work here. Everything about her was petite – her innocent face, her pug nose, her pouty lips, and especially the thin little fingers that were working expertly on my shirt buttons. “You do prep,” I acknowledged.
When she had my shirt off, she put it carefully on a hanger and hung it up in my locker. Then she kneeled between my legs and unfastened my belt and zipper. “Stand, please,” she instructed me.
When I got up, Yumiko was kneeling so close that I had to do a quick little sidestep kaçak iddaa to avoid mushing her face with my crotch. She did not react. In fact, her demeanour was strangely, both coldly professional and warmly angelic. She reached up and slid off my pants and briefs with business-like efficiency, folded them and then took them over to stow carefully in the locker.
My slightly aroused cock bobbed a bit as I turned to watch her. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, I covered my front with my hands and waited sheepishly.
Yumiko returned to face me, and I observed that, although she had very small breasts, her impressively erect nipples were pushing forcefully up under her tight swimsuit material. She noticed my demure pose and grinned. The edges of her mouth turned up ever so slightly and exposed her two front teeth, making her look like a cute little bunny.
She grabbed my hand again and led me to a shower stall at the back of the room. From behind her, I enjoyed watching the tight scrunching of her little buns as she walked.
She opened the stall’s glass door, and I entered the tiled enclosure. On the wall was mounted a hand shower, and on the floor sat a pail of soapy water with a large, real sponge. I wasn’t sure why a shower was involved in the purchase of underwear, but it really didn’t bother me, so I committed myself to washing up. However, I was a little more than surprised when Yumiko entered the shower immediately behind me.
Taking the shower nozzle off the wall, Yumiko turned on the water and gave me a good, all-over wetting. The water was pleasantly warm. When she got to my crotch, she used her free hand to juggle my balls, ensuring that all my nooks and crannies got soaked. The feeling of her little hand and delicate fingers playing with my testicles sent a thrill through my body.
Yumiko pushed and turned me, forcing me to lean forward with my hands against the wall. In this position, I felt like I was about to receive a full body search – and little did I know…
She reached down for the sponge, squishing out the excess water as she brought it up to my neck. The consistency of the sponge was soft, but its texture was slightly raspy, so that it both soothed and exhilarated me with each stroke. Yumiko went about her scrubbing quietly and efficiently as if she conducted this service regularly.
When she finished her thorough soaping of my back, bottom and legs, she put her hands on my hips and gently moved them back in order to reposition my body. It caused me to lean forward and thrust my bottom up in the air. From behind me, I heard the splash of the sponge being returned to the pail and the click of a bottle cap being snapped open.
Suddenly, I felt my butt cheeks being spread apart and my butt crack channelling the flow of a cool, slippery fluid. The viscous liquid, which must have been soap, oozed down the length of my crack and dripped onto the shower floor below.
With another snap of the cap, Yumiko placed the bottle down and then positioned herself behind me. Starting at my tail bone, a thin little finger squished around to cover itself in the lubricant and then entered the canyon of my butt cheeks. Like a slow motion, white-water kayak, the digit turned and twisted as it rode the contour of my rear channel. It pressed firmly, ensuring all hidden areas got well coated. Lower and lower it slid, passing tantalizingly over the pucker of my anus.
When her finger reached the end of its journey, it returned to my clenched opening, and with light little probes, it teased at the barrier, enticing it to allow her entrance. This was a virginal area for me, and I didn’t know what to make of her poking. I had no idea how to release my grip, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to in any case. Nevertheless, she continued her prodding until she compromised my defences. A fingertip sneaked in the entrance, followed eventually by a knuckle and then an entire finger. I felt strong sensations of heat and electricity, even though it was just her finger. As she slowly inserted and retracted her probe, I felt a hot wave flow through my body.
After a few seconds of deep cleaning, she withdrew her hand and moved it between my legs, grasping my balls lightly from behind and making them sudsy with the soap residue on her hand. She cradled and massaged them, jiggling them softly. I appreciated her thoroughness.
“You turn now, please,” Yumiko instructed me.
I turned slowly to face her. In the tight confines of the stall, I was a little worried that my now semi-firm member would hit her as I swung around. Watching the traverse of my little derrick, her eyes widened a bit, and she said, “You need I finish you. ” I guess she meant that we had better hurry along before an accident happened.
She retrieved the soapy sponge from the pail and gave my chest a real scrubbing. Then, she moved down the front of my body, discretely avoiding my crotch, and knelt on the shower floor, with my erection hovering just in front of her face. She picked up the bottle of liquid soap and clicked kaçak bahis open the top. Gingerly, she took the tip of my penis between a thumb and finger and held it steady out in front of me. Then she raised the bottle with her other hand and squeezed a bead of soap along its length.
Putting the bottle back down, she used a fingertip to spread the soap along the upper-side of my cock and then all over the rest of it. The light rubbing of her little digital applicator sent a tingling sensation along my shaft and up through my abdomen.
Convinced that the soap was now well applied, she opened her hand and reached towards my rock hard… Suddenly, the shower door slid open with an abrupt swish. “Yumi, wait!!!” Yumiko’s hand hovered in mid-air, her fingers curling tantalizingly around but not touching my cock.
Becky stood at the shower entrance with a look of certain concern on her face. “I haven’t done the measurements yet, so don’t go any further yet. “
“I no finish? You say do all!” Yumiko complained, with her hand still hovering in position. I thought briefly about flinching into her grasp in order to influence the situation.
“I know I said that, Yumi, but I have to measure… um… Oh, sir, I’m sorry about this,” Becky started to give me a quick apology when she realized my predicament and then blushed when she saw the look of disbelieving disappointment in my eyes. “Yumi, please just dry Mr Davis off, and I’ll take him over to the fitting room. ” And with that, she left.
“Okay, I bring, I bring. ” Yumiko withdrew her hand and stood up in order to rinse me off with the hand shower… or so I thought. She actually went toward the shower door.
I suddenly felt like a teenager who had just been caught necking on the couch in the family room. I looked down sadly at my hard-on, glistening with a soapy sheen, abjectly waiting for an anti-climatic rinsing. Sometimes, timing is everything; the little guy had come so close to having fun.
Yumiko was, oddly, still at the door, looking furtively out the glass and around the locker room beyond. “She gone,” she eventually announced, turning on her heels and dropping quickly to her knees. Immediately, she wrapped her hand around my shaft and began to jerk it off furiously.
I looked down in disbelief. Her hand was like a mad piston, and I was surprised that such a little person could expend that much energy. The feeling of the rubbing was overwhelming, and my knees almost faltered.
Her arm was a blur of motion. Smack, smack, smack, smack. Then she steadied the base with her other hand and focused just on my tip. Smick, smick, smick, smick.
Smack, smack, smack, smack… Smick, smick, smick, smick… Her rhythm was unrelenting. A wonderful buzzing sensation resonated over my entire cock.
Smack, smack, smack, smack… Smick, smick, smick, smick… It was building. I wouldn’t be able to hold out. I wanted to go up on my toes and thrust into her movement, but I couldn’t get my balance. My arms flew out unsuccessfully to find the shower walls for support.
She leaned in, moving my cock above her shoulder for better leverage. My gawd, she was actually speeding up. Smack, smack, smack. Smack, smack, smack. Smack, smack, smack. “Ohhh… uhhh… unghhh!!!”
A wad of cum shot towards the shower door and audibly smacked on impact. Yumiko leaned back and slowed her pace to long, firm, finishing strokes. Subsequent spouts hit her shoulder, her throat and her breast.
She looked up at me with great satisfaction over her accomplishment. “You finish now. ” Her wide grin caused her nose to wrinkle up and her two front teeth to show again. What an incredibly cute and impish little bunny! She looked so pleased at having just got away with something naughty.
I was dizzy and having a difficult time catching my breath. It had been such a hard, sudden cum. Reaching to my side, I felt a tiled wall and was able to steady myself.
When I regained my focus, I watched Yumiko flitting about, cleaning and straightening. She seemed business-like again, as if nothing had just happened.
On her return to the shower, she helped me out on my unsteady legs. She had a towel in her hand, and she used it to dry me off, first my back and then my front. Her touch was quick and a little rough.
Kneeling in front of me to finish her task, she gave my dangling member a playful little bat with her hand and giggled, “You soft now. ” Then she stood up and wrapped a dry towel around my waist, just as Becky entered the room to retrieve me.
*** The Measurement ***
“Thanks, Yumi,” Becky said, as she took me by the arm. We walked down the hallway to another backroom. The air in the hall was cool to the damp skin of my bare upper body.
Passing a few closed doors – boy, this store was bigger than I thought – we entered one near the end of the hall. The room had an immediately peaceful feel to it, probably due to the subdued lighting. It was larger than the change room but efficient in size. It featured a large wooden table, elegant wing-back chair, patterned area rug and tasteful full-length mirror, all either antiques or first-class reproductions. In the middle of the floor was a little podium, which was about a foot or so high.