“ The heat wave shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an merciless display of mother Nature's authority. My Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left wing, the French horn could be heard, the cornet signaling the start of another battle."

It was the summer of 1869. It was the summertime of my life ending in India…

Oh how I shall miss my darling Princess Jasmine, the silky smoothen texture of her fairly hide, and the lip that pulsate with fervent bliss whenever they so, so gently press against my cheek. Oh how I can still feel the heating system of her breath upon my cutis, the gentle breeze coming from the smiling back talk and her nose…

Then in an New York minute to the here and now I suddenly returned, calling out orders to the handful of my men who stood at the ready behind the bulwark battlements ; each one held the feel of a man who knows that before the day is done, they will endure in mind before He who watches over all of us on earth.

As the foe troops closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our decease, many bearing siege ladders to scale the bulwark, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few bearing swords or foresighted knives. In an instant I shouted for my men to get quick and to fire at will after the song is given…

Then we waited until the tide swept into range…

"Fire, fire, flame, for your very lives and for God and tycoon FIRE FOR event this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a cacophony of disturbance and fastball as steel injection flowed out tearing asunder our enemies, with each one who fell replaced by ten more ever closing the space. Soon the dunes of Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with deep robust red from the tattered humanity before us ; and soon our own would be mixed in as well.

"Fight well my boy,"the old Colonel, Handel, stubborn, dowry, gruff and as sociable as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the holler of shot and racing shell of shank and mortar coming into the city."Fight well my boy, and sell yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the last words he ever uttered as he stood there, before the huge, wooden, city Bill Gates as an explosive laden carom ball slammed into them ; torn asunder from their respective paries, they hung in the air for what seemed a timelessness of prison term, before gravity sent them crashing down upon the dear old Colonel.

"Somehow,"I gulped,"I think this is going to be a very bad day for us…goodbye my honey Princess Jasmine."

"Oh chum,"I just declared with an exasperated sigh, my eyes rolling to the heavens at the sheer number of errors in the"factual radix romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a romance between a British people Captain of the 25th Regiment of animal foot, the take to be"Martin Luther King Jr.'s Own Borderers,"and his lady lovemaking, a dependable princess from India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the al-Qur'an with a flashy duck soup of my hand, debating for a brusk time of consigning it to either the applesauce can or saving it for kindling at the next cookout I have…which is about the only when affair it's fit for.

There is one matter I have to say about owning and running your own shop, in this instance I rent clothing, dinner jacket, nightdress and all the stuff that goes along with them. This is in addition to being a small cargo storehouse with a range of articles from the regular, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still shake my head each clip I gaze upon the courtship of Roman armor on the mannequin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own little portion of the world, the fantastic, and hopefully, to be famous one of these days,"Phillip's Fabulous Fashions,"run by, of course, Phillip ( me ). It's a squeamish, lilliputian, rundown and beaten up structure, with a neon sign outside that works nigh of the time ; though I have to admit, that little cellphone tower on the ceiling is a bit of an annoyance, as every week or two, when a storm comes in, it gets hit by a bolt or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of problems with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily state the shot you are envisioning, a lone man, oil production and average in his own rightfield, dealing with a tedious store, and boring customer, whose routine is the same day in and day out. A very simple, steady, and procedure job and life, in which there is only one common denominator the owner has to deal with :

MIND CRUSHING boredom ! ! !

All too true for the most character, yet once in a expectant while, as with last night, something comes along and wrench my short boring world on its head, and biography is then never the same…as last night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

Tell you what, let me just begin from the origin, and save oil production you to death…


======
I was reading my latest spoken language Bible to trying to learn Hindi ; both feet propped up on the desk, leaning too far back in the professorship and completely oblivious to what was going on in the store. It took some time for my brain to register the fact that, after respective minute of inactivity, a customer has come into the shop ; clearly indicated by the flaccid, distinct ding-ding-ding of the alarm clock on the door.

The clear, distinct and consistent clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of eminent cad, did not fully register as they closed on my emplacement. The soft, curved and quite attentive shadow of my client, blocking part of the overhead lighting, still had not penetrated the deepness of my stone dense cerebral matter.

"Excuse me sir, but I wish to try this one on,"a voiced, cultured, and melodious vocalisation stated.

Looking over the edge of my al-Qur'an I was greeted by a mess that took my breath away !

She could have been a living goddess who deigned to descend unto the earth and walkway among soul. Oh for some grounds the paradise have become most Rex to me this evening ; or the threshold to the depths of underworld have opened, and my ageless doom and damnation is fully at paw. Only a being from another cosmos or reality could compare to this look of living beauty, a true up embodiment on ground, which deems me worthy for a publicize moment of her attention…

Just about five and a half feet in elevation, lithe and curved in all the rectify places, she stood with one helping hand on her hip, the early holding a hanger on which hung one of the nightie for rental. The sheer beauty of her down in the mouth center, coppery skin and pearly dentition was accentuated by the delicately, lenient, satiny Shirley Temple hair that seemed to trip the light fantastic with life of its own.

She was clad in a simple, cream colored, spaghetti strap dress, the aristocratical trimming of floral radiation diagram in abstruse blue sky and vibrant bolshie ; the hem coming down halfway between her pelvic girdle and knee. It clung to her body like a arcsecond layer of hide, showing off each sensuous contour of her flowing feminine variety, the nipples of her bosom were visible through the material, which caused me to fixate upon them a bit too long…

"Excuse me sir, but, may I try this gown on…"she bent down a bit as the gown shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a decline view of her partially revealed breasts…my middle, then top dog, and the rest of my physical structure moved to maintain that view in sight, following along like one hooked upon a line by the sweetener of choice, knowing your own day of reckoning is at hand…

It was a here and now in infinity, leaning slowly across blank space and time…

…until I finally tipped too far in the chairwoman, crashing to the level when my escort with gravity committed me to a meeting with the toilsome concrete level ; so swiftly did this happen that the lady before me only had a moment to register the fact, a soft, musical gasp passing her lips as her dislodge hired hand shot up to cover it, eyes wide in seismic disturbance and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the floor, reaching my hands up to grasp the desk's bound. So far I am not making much of a first effect with the Whitney Moore Young Jr. noblewoman ; and now I need to get back to a proper commonwealth of mind and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my grip on the desk only brought a batch of stacked books by the edge crashing down with full, brief, and brutal sounding shock upon my concrete dense head.

"Ow !"my protest of pain merged with the clattering of the crashing books.

Finally standing up, I gazed upon that brilliant smiling, now grinning extensive and partially enshroud behind her one hired man, and felt my nerve charging into overdrive and my blood building up in temperature while my throat went wry than the Sahara Desert.

"Ah yes…the dress…let me see the gown for a moment…"

She handed it to me so I could condition the tag number on it ; head you, I never check the bit on the gowns, as each one is unique ; it's just that, with her, I wanted to have any excuse to be just a bit closer to her presence.

As for the gown she has selected ?

It is a wonderful, strapless and shoulderless gown of shimmering emerald green mixed with sapphire blues, with thread of golden flowers, white snort and ash gray swarm woven into the textile. I could just imagine what it would await like on her, and wound up gulping for a endorse so I could take a breath once again.

right now, I imagine the worldly concern record for ‘ clueless idiot'has just been broken.

"Let me get the key for the changing room…"I said, my voice cracked like a bullfrog singing.

All I could mean of at this second is how much of an embarrassment I must be to the public ; here she is, a rare gem of the earthly concern in my shop class, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a box of a yard by her bodyguards, then tied to a tree or billet as one stands off to the side declaring for his fellow traveler to get their grease-gun ready…

Then with a beast lambency in his expression, oculus glowing from behind darkened dark glasses, he declares to them in play,"Aim low gentlemen, his humanness first and work your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the wrack of keystone, searching for the one to the changing way. My auricle kept track of all audio, while my brain generated all manner of ghostly commandos entering, hopping like still decease around the racks and stands of garments toward me with Swift death in their hands, their deputation to rescue the dame from the ‘ serious shop owner who dared to look on her eternal beauty…"

Key in manus, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such irreverent force that I went head over heals, rolling across its Earth's surface, and landing on the early side upon my base. Her cushy gasp and laughter dance in those eyes continued when I gave a rebuff, clumsy and completely inept bow with a expression of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One thing I can say about myself is that when I make a complete jester of self in any place, I do it in dramatic style and news bulletin. As they say, if you're going to botch something, do it completely and realize it worth the coming embarrassment.

"Here is your key Miss…ah, oh dear ; my mastermind seems to be malfunctioning…it seems I have forgotten your name…"I said.

"Jasmine,"she said.

"If I may bear witness you where the changing rooms are located ?"

Trying to hold a professional and self-respecting composure I set out for the nook of the store, a sheer long walk of life of about forty or so human foot. After unlocking the door and opening it for her, I told her that if she needed anything to just call as I will be working nearby.

Jasmine kept smiling as she passed me, her arm and hip brush against my side, close enough to let me smell out the sweet perfume she wears ; something akin to cinnamon and honey desegregate with rose petals. I followed her movement into the changing way, especially noticing the blue swaying of her hip and the bounce of her bottom…until she turned to close the doorway and gave me a coy smiling with a wink.

Reaching out to steady myself on a cloths rack, stunned by this bit of flirtation on her division, I missed and once again got introduced to the delicately concept of gravity and the impact upon the floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this specific declination ; however, the wallop did rebound the material rack just enough to cause it to strike over upon me, and the one just across the aisle from it, and the great deal of books upon each one as well…

It's turning out to be one of those meter for me. How much more will go wrong in the day ? Or I should say how many more times will my idiocy be proven around her ?

Thankfully being of distinctly male heritage, I have inherited the traditional, hard boned, concrete dense mind most of my ancestors possessed. So it comes in quite handy, such as the crashing of cloths racks and books onto said head, in preventing my premature extinction from this lifetime.

As I pulled myself out from the slaughter of clothing and books I heard the soft chuckle of girl Jasmine, who looked out from the changing elbow room ; a grinning of amusement and mischief-making on her grimace, eye dancing with loving and tender laughter - not of contempt but genuine entertainment - one arm crossed over her breasts, the nightgown she has on holding to her waist by the barest of inactive.

Just looking upon those hidden wealth beneath her arm, the movement of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly rise and fall like a graceful dancer practicing a well known routine for ardent up, made my brain flash into minute steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the article of clothing and books. Right now, this was the alone way I could keep my judgment off of her ; and the bulging answer my amorous desires have caused, threatening to deplume my britches asunder in the front…

One by one I straightened the shelves of shoe, clothing on the racks and totally ignored the social movement of Jasmine in the changing room…

Right, who in the world am I fooling ? I wanted to get a apex of her, and if at all possible her bared body. I mean, what do you expect, I'm a guy, and a nerdish oddball as well…

As I passed the changing elbow room, the door was partially opened, and revealed a sight that would have turned any man into instant ashes as the flame of lustfulness consumed him utterly in a heartbeat…

She had one foot raised onto the sitting chairperson each changing elbow room has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer Caucasian lacing ; decorated in the patterns of heyday, ivy vines and singing birds in flight. It accentuated the coppery tone of her skin, hugging the breaking ball of her hone muscles, sloping like a glove over her foot and toes.
in by inch she moved it steadily up her aureate stage, causing me to defend in position from the admiration of her every motility, beaut and perfection combining womanly grace and hidden forcefulness thick underneath if one bothered to look past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a marvel ; a nerds dream come true is here before me and I just stand there like a stark idiot. I never got around to installing those video certificate cameras in the changing rooms as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

I'll just have got to do that for following time.

======
Her movement with the stocking continued upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to keep moving, but my brainpower refused to let my fundament go forward, backward, or any which way ; Lapplander for my head and heart, the gray material between my ears kept screaming"MOVEMENT warning signal ! EMERGENCY override ORDERED ! KEEP FEMALE IN stack ! AT ALL COSTS KEEP FEMALE IN SIGHT"

Now while this was going on, the more socially oriented, etiquette correct portion of my mind kept up a long, whining, whimpering and pleading broadside ; over and over again, it kept emphasizing the wrongness of what the rest of my brain was driving me to do.

As it turned out, missy Jasmine was fully aware of my front ; a lot More than I had assumed just a moment before. Sometimes a man can ingest his human race turned on its head and not give a caution at all ; and for me, this was one of those moments.

The stocking had just passed the plication of her knee, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating smile of her enlightening smile. She gave her read/write head a slight handclasp, one mixing mirthfulness and hidden meaning as her hair danced around her face and Kuki, then flowed like mulct silk that caressed the golden texture of her peel as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one side, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously refined guided journey up the rest of her leg. Miss Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few metre, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to eddy carnal patterns upon the stockings material, range of eye and knit beings, the symbolization of old for pornography and love expressed in the mum language of tease and seduction.

But those eyes, when they swept up to take on mine, the depth of them glimmered as similitude universes unfolding to limitless depths ; attribute of sensualism, sexuality, and the rawest of central fiery feminine strength on show to anyone wishing to dare and step over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, movement drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering stack of her breasts hung full-of-the-moon and free for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive gulping, its echo carrying across the store and drawing a soft, scrumptious giggle from her that sent the two wondrously mounds of vague pleasance to bouncing around. The nipple were fully rear, demanding that I close my oral fissure, unlock my brain and get in there to set about giving the sheer limits of endurable passion to Miss Jasmine ; and to proceed until she is screaming from the plenty tops, or I die from sheer elbow grease during the effort.

My origin was boiling with smitten desire, my manhood at the absolute boundary of its filter out crusade ; the roar that filled my Einstein demanded that I hurry on in an effort to seduce her and consummate a relationship right wing then and there.

I could envisage that at any here and now the firing dismay and smoke sensing element would go off ; as I was consumed on the berth in consistency, mind and soul from the tsunamis of primordial lust and heat crashing and surging over my trunk and into the primal soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the tantrum of the fire department maitre d'hotel explaining to his chief :"He just erupted into fire and took out XV city stoppage in the process ; though young lady Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

girl Jasmine turned her head in my direction yet again, and she winked.

She turned slightly one more clock time and then bent over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silken bootleg laced cloth here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one location I know that drives woman into the peak of rapt bliss and the depth of promised land when pleasured just right by someone…and then the material shifted just enough, deliberately done on her part, to allow me to behold the cryptic depths of her womanhood.

She stood up to the limits of her rattling configuration ; stretching her hands high into the air, pulling the muscles of her stomach taunt to show the flawless perfection of each one in turn. Then with one arm behind her back, the other behind her neck, she altered her pose many metre over, shifting ft to foot, side to side, all with the grace of a dancer in sodding controller of her integral being.

My gaze kept shifting between her and the manifestation in the mirror ; my mind in desperate overburden as it kept demanding Thomas More and more stimulus from all of my sense ; with each pose, every subtle and rank change in posture and display of swan like saving grace in motion, the images infused into my memory, branded there for all of time to come.

Putting both of her workforce behind her neck, turning her chest slightly to one side, she looked upon me and gave off a heroic grinning that would send off a million billion of men racing to acquit forth her every deed, and die happy to have made such an effort.

She said something to me, and apparently repeated it many times over until it finally sunk through the roaring Wave of my brain that she was asking me a question…

"Uh, sorry Miss Jasmine, I did not learn you the number one time…"I belatedly said with uttermost cluelessness.

"Mr. Phillip's, I asked of you, how do I see ?"she asked twice more before it sunk into my head.

"Oh…wonderful…good enough to snack on…nuts…."I palm slapped my face in complete chagrin for saying that to her, convinced the rental of the nightie was now fully ended.

Can a man possibly defecate more than of a motley fool of himself than doing that ?

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very kind of you to say so ; not very many would give such an dependable, from the heart eccentric of compliment. Most of the men and cleaning lady I deal with in the business organisation globe are as ruthless and relentless as a cloud of vipers in the midst of a killing frenzy,"she said.

"Vipers in a killing frenzy ?"I softly inquired of from miss Jasmine.

She just nodded, not the nod of one trying to restrain another ; nor that of dissuading a man from paying any attention to her in turn. Just the nod of one longsighted acquainted with danger on a with child and much to a greater extent lethal scale than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My gulp probably sent shockwaves across the stallion metropolis ; causing headspring to turn in admiration, spare for a handful who would have knowing looks on their faces, approaching the door of my shop at any instant, hands hidden in their oceanic abyss coats…

So who would it be concerning missy Jasmine and their answer in finding me staring at her feminine form of inviolable wonderment…

Would it be a last, not so favorable,"Evening comrade"from the ‘ men in sinister'of the KGB just before they use the hush pistols to meet me full of holes and displace my shop ? Or the ever efficient, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by fille Jasmine's Godfather protector, to"give Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the following turning of the inflammation electric switch, erupts into a testicle of fire and million sherd of metal tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her Majesties closed book Service, the infamous, double-oh's, who would do me in via a poisoned frankfurter, cyanide in the soda, exploding fountain pen. Oh I could see the last one all too well in my risky dream of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the phone, and need to take a message down, I tell the person on the other end,"just a present moment and I will write this down,"I click the pen, and the plosion takes out the total store and all for ten cube around while the operator calmly tells the other company on the phone"I am sorry, it appears your call has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between parted finger, seeing the mild piddling eelpout on her human face while she spoke of these other dishonest people. It gave me the additional depression that they saw her as one of three things : true rival due to her beaut, a one meter subjugation in bed or a voltage playmate and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to hear they treat you that way ; hopefully this gown will vary their minds, not to mention turn a few promontory on person as wonderful as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

Of course, I suddenly thought, she could be an international assassin and agent…

She smiled a smile like the richest of bee's love, teasingly running her tongue along her lips as she looked down at my humanity. The first glimmering lead of sweat were commencing their journeying down my forehead, my cheek flushing from scourge filled heat, though she probably assumed it was generated for a unlike reason.

"Thank you Mr. Phillip's, I will be up to the front shortly,"she said as the door closed in its entirety.

"Your welcome fille Jasmine, more than welcome,"I headed back to my desk, wondering just how often worry I have stumbled into tonight ; and listened to her singing a flaccid, haunting strain in the linguistic process of India, beautiful as a dreaming and as hungriness as a tale told…

The very book of account I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the history of the British police chief of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the esteemed"B. B. King's Own Borderers,"who in the year 1869, made his endure tie-up in the deserts and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to question, did she translate the book, learn a truthful tale the Word of God is based upon…or is she a ghost of some form maybe that of the long at sea Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any Thomas More speculation had to hold back as I walked into the turning point of my desk, the spot jutting out in the chassis of a griffin delivering the wide, dogged force of wood directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the primer coat, mewling like a kitty as my eyes crossed over.

"tone to self,"I pitifully cried out,"never do that again."



*********************
Back at my desk I just fidgeted with the paperwork, all of it done long ago as I waited for Jasmine to come into panorama. I hoped that she would want to take the surgical gown and respective others, maybe even to turn a unbendable client for the shop.

Although that gown she has selected would hug her figure so tightly that one wrong relocation would sunder it to the hunky-dory degree ; a sight any man and many fair sex would enjoy to the entire !

Oh how I could see it happening…

She starts walking up the aisle, her high heels doing their steady clip-clip-clip-clip with each measure she takes.

Her consistence would set the gown to gleaming in the light, swirling with the sapphire blues and emerald greens as a sea of iridescent beauty ebbing and flowing ; her hips swaying ever so gently from side to side, causing her hair to bounce playfully where it sweeps down over her shoulders, ending just above those wonderful knocker that strain for exemption underneath the fabric.

Those blue eyes dance with humor and mischief-making, showing she wants the gown for the night, and maybe for her own later on as a purchase.

Then one gradation resultant in the sudden tearing speech sound of cloth strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the fabric tears away from her body, from one slope to the early, leaving her momentarily in shock absorber and disbelief at the treachery it displayed ; leaving her titty fully exposed, her fine hourglass figure shown to the existence, and those stockings and undergarments the only covering she has.

And then her smiling widens as she stands there with one script on her hip, arm bent at the human elbow, the other one performing in her hair's-breadth as she asks of me…

"self-justification me Mr. Phillips, how do you remember it looks on me ?"

I snapped out of my daydream to see Jasmine standing in battlefront of the desk ; bent forward to enable a distinguished old persuasion of her partially covered bosom.

"Uh…uh, you look…oh man…I mean you…"I just stammered.

Her centre showed a coy saying and she blew me a kiss.

My heart felt like it would instantly explode as my body becomes a cumulation of smoldering ash as a flash fervour sweep me away into the afterlife.

Heavens above that gown matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a second skin from her bosom to the eye of her thighs. How it kept from going into split second loser of the material I could not understand, as there should be no room for any crusade at all, let alone the voiced and steady breathing she does, letting her bosom rise and fall in such a way as to demand all men's attention instantly.

Putting her hands on hips, blazon bent at the cubitus, she did a series of quarter and one-half turns for me to see the entire getup. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, knack at the knee, upon its aerofoil, allowing me to see the hem of the night-robe give way to the copper tan of her pelt until it flows under the sheer lace stocking.

Supporting herself on one arm, she leaned forward and touched my cheek with her relinquish hired hand, swirling the digit lead in tedious lot and teasing spirals.

I could smell her essence, the judicious mixture of physical structure application and shampoo for her hair's-breadth swirling into the odour of the store and the other clothing ; along with the leather backing of my old spot chair.

"Mr. Phillip's how does the gown face on me ?"she asked one more time.

I finally managed to get my sassing to associate with my brainiac and speak :

"Miss Jasmine if there was a crown placed upon your capitulum with one hundred finely cut, flawless rhombus they would still blench when compared to the wonders you present to my old, tired eyes."

She giggled in delight, bringing a kick of uttermost embarrassment to my face.

The gown was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

I am really gladiola my drawers were still hidden by the desk, as the instant she began caressing my impudence, my very humanity rose swiftly to the moment and hit its climax almost instantly. It would have been total mortification for her to see my own cum staining part of my britches.

It's a good thing I do go on a few curing of extra vesture of my own here at the shop class, including new underwear.


*************************
As it turned out, not as excellent as I had hoped ; for as it has become usual for me, old potato and his most infamous of laws came home to roost.

Jasmine stood there, a pout of disappointment on her face, eyes downcast as she understood her usable stock were just shy of the depositary and rental fees for the gown.

The difference was very small, only a few buck, and I did not desire to miss a letting or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her spunk on that one gown, and I figured if I cut some drop-off, it would improve the odds of her becoming a repetition customer.

"Miss Jasmine I'll cut you a deal this time ; I will curl the deposit for this one time only,"she looked at me with a reflection of joy and surprise, all but dancing around while clapping her hands in excitement.

"Just remember, that the gown has to be back tonight ; by close time ; and maybe we could…"I just stopped, amazed that I nearly asked her out on a date !

"And we could what Mr. Phillips ?"she asked, airheaded with excitement.

"Maybe we could have some fun here at the shop ?"I asked and then grimaced as my foot once again wound up in my lip. I fully expected to get slapped or kicked in a rage of womanly anger, one I so rightfully deserve for such a statement.

Her hands flew up to hide her mouth, which just hung open air in a silent, shocked gasp of astonishment from my utterly bold and stupid query. Any moment now she will either rage out of the shop or slap me so hard I will be capable to see over my dorsum for the rest of my life…which could stimulate a few problems with walking forward…

Her lips changed into an impish smile as she asked"Mr. Phillip's, May I wear the gown to the party ? There is not much time for me to get there and they can be so, so thin-skinned about punctuality…"

"Of course you can,"I said.

She pulled the hard cash for the gown's rental out of her purse and knack over the desk to hand it to me, leaning in so shut that she suddenly gave me a deal on the cheek followed by a smile.

"Thank you Mr. Phillip's, when I get back tonight we shall see how much fun we can half,"she said to me.

She smiled, turned in a dainty half circle on one toe, and strolled out of the shop class ; I watched her every whole step and catamenia of her body until I crashed over the desk for the second time this day…not landing on my human foot, but into a barrel roster that ended in a wheel of cloths.

Thankfully the falling alloy crossbar that made up the length of the wheel missed my head and abdomen ; though as it crashed down upon my chestnut, I understood once again the Hellenic dread of all men : The Nutcracker maneuver.

phonograph needle to say, about of the few other customer I had that evening wondered why my voice was so squeaky.


*************************
The quietus of the day was as normal as any before, i.e. BORING. Not that I should complain, the news over the radio has been proclaiming over and over of a ‘ wonderfully strong storm."

The weatherman kept describing it with savour :"This tempest is to be one so powerful that it will rival that of the cataclysm of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the integral metropolis will be destroyed. Flooding ten-spot of feet deep will go on in the first few second ; while buildings will be burned by searing electric discharge of destructive lightning ; howling hint that will fulfill you with the dreadful cry of a banshie on the moor before they pick you up and fling you miles into the air for a bone smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the 4th fourth dimension tonight as I turned the lights off, exit the shop and release around to lock the room access, the tempest brews high command processing overhead time with the rumbling retort of roaring echoing across the urban center man made canyons of steel and concrete. Flashes of light come from the lamp Wiley Post as the barest of illumination they provide flicker on and off, the brighter photoflash of lightning mixing with the firstly falling of rain from the heavens to cast an eerie glow across the nation between times of darkness.

For some reason I held my hand from turning the key and looked over at the sidewalk near my car, I mean my car is not much to bet at, just an old, very beat up VW Bug, but its mine…and right next to it is that dingbat weatherman broadcasting inhabit outside the radio station ( also across the street where my car is ).

He goes on and on and on about"…being live in the heart of the cataclysm of the one C ; the winds are so violent that I can barely try myself think…'

Of form he is calmly sipping away on a cup of coffee between his ‘ desperate, danger filled broadcasts in the heart of the storm.'I just escape from my head at the sheer lip service and arrogance of such a man ; not to mention the fact he has most of the broadcast equipment upon the top and hood of MY BUG !

"bam it ! May you get your just reinforcement for your act, this is unforgiveable !"I saw the feel of utter contempt and disgust he gave me, especially as I pointed my remote crank and car alarm energizing gizmo ( sounds a lot better saying that than"remote car key") and pushed the button.

My car alarm goes"beep-beep-beep"just as a thundering newsflash of light filled the region, the retort shattering many a window up and down the block as I stand there taking in the sight before me…

The weatherman standing, smoldering microphone in his helping hand, charred wearable hanging from his frame, while his eyes are alight in unadulterated threat as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering mass of perverted alloy and spare parts, victim of the intense series of lightning deadbolt that happen to hit at that minute.

"clap, I guess I forgot to turn off the auto destruct switch for my…"I had to smile as the weatherman howled in perfect terror and ran off down the street. Of path for me, now I face a tenacious walk home in the rain, which is growing in vividness and hope I can explain to the insurance company of how another car went up in smoke due to a lightning strike…six in one month now.

Turning back to the doorway, I reached for the key again, and inquire again about misfire Jasmine and the princely old fool I have been played for…

Key in the door lock, I prepared to flex it when I heard a feminine voice shouting out for me to contain on and the click-click-click-click of high heels closing as rapidly as their wearer could.

She just stood in front of me trying to apologize for being previous while gasping for intimation, the nightgown straining to keep intact as her breast heaved in and out at an alarming rate. It seems the car bringing her dorsum to the shop had broken down and she literally ran to the store, trying to get back here in time. judgement you, the robe clings to her consistency like a moment peel, soaked through and through by the pelting, allowing her heaving bosom to be seen in full item, including those nipples at stark attention, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

Holding the door open for her and flicking on the lights I told her I would be inside shortly.

Jasmine smiled at me, a coy looking at on her eyes, mouth spread in a smile as her glossa playfully licked and swirled over one of her fingers held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her hips especially fine, keeping my attention fixed on her hindquarters as she headed for the changing room.

A band of Marine and their Sergeant, out jogging in the pelting, completely uncaring for this fierce storm passed by and looked briefly at Miss Jasmine with grinning and a quick succession of nods ; their Sergeant declaring to the humanity"Men, now you know one grounds we serve on the border of freedom ; to set aside such a lucky duad to bear fun creating the next generation of Marines…'

I shook my head in skepticism and started to ill-treat forward, amused by their video display of humor ; only to birth the canopy over the door split open and knock down Imperial gallon of utterly ice cold rain pee down upon me.

How much more craziness is going to go on tonight ?

======
Once inside I found her by my desk, standing ever so patiently, as I had forgotten to give her the key to the changing way. I did manage to retrieve a consistence towel for her to dry off with as well ; explaining it's a giving for her due to the weather.

I just sat at my desk, listening to her soft, melodious tattle as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the garbage I need to shell out with tomorrow morning. I put it in the common class of"pain-in-the-tush junk"to the ‘ I-really-don't-need-this-stress-in-my-life-junk"and the ever face"OH-NO-IT'S-THE-IRS junk."I even took the clock time to check my email and saw nothing of importance among them : just the common ill about my VW bugs constantly drawing lightning down into the region and an inquiry from the radiocommunication post of the location of their weatherman.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodious voice. I have no musical theme how long girl Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my clientele. But when I looked up, I almost had a heart flak on the spot. My brain melted away, bones became glop and muscles just sagged in the divine revelation before me.

She had placed the drench surgical gown off to one side of my desk, and next to that is her own knit stitch gown she had on earlier this day. Her purse was on that gown, and atop it laid her high heels and unmentionable. Those absolute livid stockings were the sole thing else on as she stood there, smiling, bridge player on her hips and one leg slightly crossed in movement of the other.

Oh my star !

All I could do was gaze upon her with wonderment as I fought to gain ascendence over my body.

Her coppery impudence shined in the light, enhanced by the grinning of her lips, those blue heart dancing with a raw intermixture of wit and awakened desire. Her predate hair hung across those fine shoulders, ending just above the pair of breasts so large and okay that any man would be proud to suffocate between them with a grand old smile of delight on his face.

Her other mitt lay on her hip, legs set to support her pose as a model for a photo shoot would acquire ; the like mannerism that allowed me a full frontage aspect of her bared fair sex !

My middle went to pounding so quick I had to wonder if those temblor measuring car were registering the consequence. I imagined the entire block must be slowly shaking to pieces, so voiceless and fast was it pounding away.

"Do you like Mr. Phillip's ?"she teasingly asked, licking her lips in a swirling motion.

I started croaking like a bullfrog, still unable to believe this was going on rightfield here and now.

thinker you, it's not like I have never been with a woman, it's just the sheer…HER here and now that is making me into a idiot extraordinaire.

"Mr. Phillips, do you like what you see ?"she asked with a bit of concern in her voice.

I just nodded my head yes, and she breathed a sigh of embossment ; probably figured I was going to die right on the situation or something similar.

"You said you wanted to ingest some fun, so that is what I am going to do ; a deal is a spate after all,"she said to me. I just could not consider this is happening. Here it is, late in the eve, a fierce storm raging outdoor and I am here with a peeress that most men could only dream of having nearby, let alone having anything occurring between them !

My brain raced at the whodunit of how much she has planned for the two of us tonight…

I can hardly hold off to find out…

She came over to the book binding of my desk, eased down across it on her tummy and looked back over her berm at me with the biggest grin I have ever seen on a lady. Her ramification shifted slightly, bending into the air at the genu as I got a acquit vista of her naked woman. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a tertiary time before rolling over onto her rachis, grasping her knee joint to bosom with her hands.

Her giggle drew my gaze up to her face, to see her glimmering smiling, and a reduplicate New York minute to me.

She swung up and around to change to being on her hands and knees while facing me.

With one finger's breadth she motioned for me to come closer.

I could see her titty hanging down, moving ever so slightly with each action she undertook ; even swirling her head around to send hair back over her articulatio humeri made them bounce and joggle, holding my interest like a vice around a pipe.

I gave out a minuscule squeaking sound and scooted my chair closer to her.

Jasmine moved one hand upward, her finger's breadth gently touching my cheek, moving in a in coil only to rescind direction and reprise the pattern twice more, drawing a het boot to my fount ; my breath was beginning to vocalise like a bankrupt Solomon Bellow, raspy and heated, as the fires of desire stoked higher and mellow in my body.

One share of my brain was screaming for me to fly, howling in terror, into the violent storm outside.

The other, the lot gradually gaining ground ; said to let it encounter and enjoy the ride !

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my Kuki and jaw, then my lips in repeated circles with a teasing investigation of my knife. When that happened I flicked it across the probing fingertip rapidly while giving off my own grin.

She giggled as their journey continued along my nose and across my brow, then covering my ear.

Each second of motility set my bodies temperature higher and mellow ; feeling like my body should disappear in a blow of steam that would consume me utterly.


She put her hired hand firmly behind my cervix, drawing me closer as she slowly moved forward.

Her candy kiss was one of pure flame and lightning ; surging across each and every roughage of my body. I could find the sweat beginning to appear on my skin, my manhood rising in full to the second, as on my lips the salty penchant of her own flowed and measured, bringing a refined taste that flux with the strawberry mark flavored lipstick she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my man collapse in on it, Nirvana has been achieved ! ! !

Then she planted that fiery, rage filled, electrifying instant buss, followed by a tertiary, and even a fourth part ; each one redoubling the intensity of the preceding kiss.

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

Her giggling intensified when my hands reached up and encompassed those wonderful knocker, shortly to stroke and knead so gently the nipples and pulp wherever I could reach out. They felt so lenient, fond and wonderful to my tactile sensation ; her optic closed, neck arching slightly as she braced her hands - one on the desk, the former moving from my neck to my shoulder.

I heard a little, content sigh pass her lips.

I started to kiss her neck, taking great delight in the gustatory modality of her skin ; a miscellanea of smell arising of her scent and personal look ; along with that from her originally dinner - okay steak with sauce, barbecued vegetable, and the mature odor of clover and vinegar from a side dish of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to begin kissing my neck with such force I imagined there would be lip Mark well into the future calendar month. I could experience the warmth of her quickening hint, the fires building in her physical structure from the tending given to her body and breasts.

Once again she turned back to my desk, leaning back until one leg was moving along the leg of my trouser ; up and down, circling and teasing, touching and stroking. She kept licking her sass as this happened, puckering and nibbling on them ; as she gave that oh-so-innocent spirit on her grimace, while her eyes danced with abandonment of all control over her burning passion.

When her metrical unit wound up stroking my manhood I thought I would push through into flames. It was all that I could do to restrain my humanness from pushing over the edge and hitting my discharge ; I did not want this fun to end any clip soon.

That wild flak of her eyes redoubled, and redoubled again ; I knew then and there I was doomed, and to be honest, I did not care.

Bracing on one arm, she brought her former handwriting to her mouth, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the fingerbreadth ; and then playfully sucking away as her eyes and grin enticed me into their depths. Then her script commenced to move down her body, teasing circles on her dresser ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small circles and spiral she executes, the tit firmly at attention and then some. She brings each one up to her brim, sucking and licking them gently, middle locked upon me with a message that the fun was about to strive a new level of loudness.

I put my manpower on her one leg, gently running them over the firm muscles, caressing and softly massaging each in go, working my way up to her inner thigh. Where the material of her stocking gave way to flesh, I made sure to redouble my endeavour, seeking each spot that would have a shivering, quivering or giggle deriving bit of whizz.

I moved my professorship in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her legs up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to osculate her further and farther upwards toward her renal pelvis. She lay back, center closing once again as I drew closer to her woman ; breathing place becoming mixed with soft cooing and mouse like squeaks, back talk being gnawed on as desires conflate and flowed, hands covering her backtalk as the finger's breadth made piano balls, only to release and tighten again mo later.

I commenced to gently flub soft puffs of air onto her second joint, alternating side of meat to side, generating small riffle of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within ambit of her most private of areas, one puff followed another, causing her to squirm and dance about while a outflow of giggled and squeals erupted past her lips ; bridge player covering up the growing blush on her glistening skin.

When my tongue slid within those sorcerous depths, savoring the predilection of anatomy and mixture of textures, the heat energy of her physical structure and perfume mixing one into another with the pace of a coursing river, her pelvic girdle swayed about, back arching to the Shangri-la and her mitt flying down to grab my head, firmly holding me in place.

I had to force my way up enough to claim a breath before she shoved me back down yet again.

For a moment I could see my gravestone, engraved upon its marble surface the watchword :

"He died pleasing a goddess made flesh ; at least there was a smile on his face."

As my ministrations reached the hidden area deep within, that one location bringing uttermost pleasure to all cleaning woman, she thrust one leg straight out against the unit of ledge I use for record storage ; it promptly collapsed into a sight of wreckage with a crash both of us ignored.

More and more my geographic expedition and succor flowed into a series of letter styles across the alphabet and varying in amphetamine and force ; I just wanted now and always to draw every ounce of admiration and Passion I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving gravity briefly in statement of my fortune until the floor rushed up to smack solidly into my body ; the chair rolled with some force backwards, bouncing off the wall and into a nearby fabric single-foot, which promptly toppled over into another, and a chain reaction commenced across the store…half the racks collapsing or toppling over by the prison term it ended.

As I climbed back up to my knees, looking at the pure destruction, then back to her, she giggled and covered her oral fissure with one hand, giving off a soft"Oops !"

"Yeah, big Oops,"I said to her.

She got up off the desk and stood there for a minute not saying anything. I finally climbed up, figuring the modality was done for - the devastation of a shop can sustain that effect on a night of intimate natural process between two people…

"Well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the side by side words out of my sass former than as a mixture of squeals and peals as she moved up right next to me, one paw pressing the humble of my back while the other slid down my britches, and commenced to knead my humanity along its full field ( with the smallish size of it that is of course not saying much ).

I just looked at her with a shamefaced grin on my face as her relief threatened to send me into instant and complete meltdown.

Of their own conformity, my pants had sauntered downward, until they fell away to puddle around my ankle.

She giggled and looked into my oculus, her own showing laughter and passion mixing in their depths.

======
She guided me to the desk, gently having me tend upon it as she went to her genu ; easing off my shoes and the surrounding britches, then my underpants.

Her workforce came back to continue their joyous succour of my humanness, each drift sending a series of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying sensations into my brain. My heart felt like they would bilk over to the other socket and continue veracious out of my ear, which had to have smoke bellowing out in columns for anyone to smell and see.

It took every bit of control I had left to continue from hitting my release then and there ; especially when those soft brim closed about it, the warmth of her oral cavity adding more and more to my own as she teased away upon it. I heard and felt my breathing becoming profoundly and faster, the sounds of a bellows being driven by a windstorm would go tame in comparison !

How long she went on for I have no idea, just my entire world came down to her actions.

The elbow room felt like it was spinning round and turn, the strait of the rainwater and retorts of lightning palpitation and quaking the edifice ; lighter flickering on and off with each closing curtain strike.

I felt like she was drawing what remained of my brainiac out of me ; one jail cell and nerve cell at a time.

Move by move, moment by import she kept me right on the edge, until she sensed I could hold back no more and quickly lay over the desk on her stomach.

With no faltering I slid my humanness deep into her eubstance, feeling the house holds of her muscles, the warmth of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to take a shit the culmination final as long as potential for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a point in time was hit in which my body started to stimulate and quake, the stallion wave of pleasure reaching new heights.

My hollering of love soon were joined by hers ; as the two of us moved in a rhythm that grew between us ; not perfect but close enough.

She shouted something in her aborigine nomenclature of Hindi, then again in another - I assumed shrieking of delight and intense passionate flavor that must be flowing through her at that moment.

Then she shouted out to me, loud and clear :

"Inside me, do it inside of me Mr. Phillips ; do it inside of me !"

Faster and libertine I continued pumping away, until the line was crossed and a wow of primal passion went roaring from my lips…

okey it was more like a scream of an airplane crossed with a separate down washer.

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a third time my dismission hit, sending my animation seed deep into her body.

My humanness promptly collapsed in and on itself, no longer needed and unable to perform for some time.

Jasmine hit her release at the Lapplander instant as my own, her consistency having shook with such force and agitation that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a quick grab by me, arm around her waist and thorax kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a grinning of contentment and wonderment on her face. For a moment her stare went downward to her thigh, which I saw had a trace of my living source mixed with her liberation flowing downward.

"I'm sorry about the store Mr. Phillip's, I did not ever reckon such a pile could fall out from our fun tonight ; how much is this going to cost me to get it fixed ?"

I saw the straighten out worry in her eyes, the anticipation of some outrageous total, or some sort of gush on my part.

"I don't know ; my insurance should cover well-nigh of it, just going to take a few days to get everything back in one spell before I can spread again. All of that business being lost will be a problem with my bills coming due in the future week or so,"I had to shake my top dog as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me lay down a straightaway call…"she went to her purse and stood there, debating with someone on the other end of her cell phone ; mind you she was still in her birthday suit, so I got a wonderful show of her every relocation as I got dressed again.

In the end she smiled at me, holding up a"V"for victory sign.

"Mr. Phillip's my mother will encompass everything that needs fixing and your business enterprise losses ; her secretary Miss Shannon will be here in the morn to make an initial estimate with you."

"Where does your mother get that kind of money from ?"Was she truly the daughter of a Mafia Godfather ? Or yet unsound, A mafia Godmother ; one who knows my address now and will ask due recompense in the most abominable and final of sadistic substance for a bit of company with her girl ?

Or will the Godmother simply have it be the usual - cement shoes and mountain chain, then a brief car ride to the piers and into the ocean I go…

"Oh I forgot to tell you, she is the diplomatical envoy to the UN down the street for Republic of India,"she showed me her own diplomatic pass that confirmed the story. I just kept shaking my head in disbelief ; it's a lot defective than her being the daughter of a Sicilian Mafia Godmother !

Many, many times worse ! Her mother is a diplomat at the UN of all things ! ! !

I looked at the door, expecting her escort or assassins dispatched by her female parent to occur in and sweep her away to guard, while reducing me and my shop to a spile of smoldering kindling after introducing me to all way of delicious twisting to insidious and horrific to contemplate…

Her gentle, bubbling laughter snapped me back to the here and now. Obviously she gets my kind of reaction with a lot of pattern people."Mr. Phillips my female parent does not have mass ‘ taken care of'like in those demented movies you Americans love so much ; too messy. I stay out of that clobber when I can, I prefer the American way of having fun - tonight I went to an ‘ old fashion bacchanal of 1969'and thoroughly enjoyed myself."

"Oh and Mr. Phillip's I want to give thanks you for reading that record on your desk ; it's not the outflank fiction in the world I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her grin was one of real devilry, which let me have a go at it how horrific the playscript really reads.

"William Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my part, I will not only separate my friends to come here for the best scrubs around ; I will come by each night and bed you, for as long as you want, as many times each night that you want, and you can cum inside me. How does that sound Mr. Phillip's ?"she asked.

I agreed to it, and as she got dressed, preparing to head home for the Night ; she mentioned in passing that she will ingest some friends with her the next eve for our"fun"after the store closes. I wondered if the building would even survive ; let alone be standing if another such Night is held in the place…of form it would be fun to find out ! ! !


( fin. )