“ The heating plant waves shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an merciless presentation of mother Nature's authority. My Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the horns could be heard, the horn signaling the kickoff of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall miss my beloved Princess Jasmine, the silky smooth grain of her middling skin, and the lips that pulsate with torrid blissfulness whenever they so, so gently press against my impudence. Oh how I can still experience the heat of her breath upon my skin, the aristocratic walkover coming from the smiling lips and her nose…

Then in an instant to the here and now I suddenly returned, calling out parliamentary procedure to the handful of my men who stood at the quick behind the walls crenelation ; each one held the look of a man who knows that before the day is done, they will stand in judgement before He who watches over all of us on earth.

As the enemy troops closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our expiry, many bearing besieging ladder to scale the walls, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few aim brand or hanker knives. In an split second I shouted for my men to get ready and to fire at will after the call is given…

Then we waited until the tide swept into range…

"fire, fire, fervor, for your very lives and for God and big businessman FIRE FOR force this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a cacophony of noise and smoking as brand shot flowed out tearing asunder our enemies, with each one who fell replaced by ten more ever closing the distance. Soon the dunes of sand, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with abstruse plentiful red from the shattered manhood before us ; and soon our own would be mixed in as well.

"Fight well my boys,"the old Colonel, Georg Friedrich Handel, stubborn, dowery, gruff and as sociable as a old rhino, shouted to us over the holla of shot and shield of cannon and mortar coming into the city."combat well my boys, and trade yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the last words he ever uttered as he stood there, before the vast, wooden, city gates as an explosive laden cannon Lucille Ball slammed into them ; torn asunder from their respective walls, they hung in the air for what seemed a eternity of time, before graveness 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 dear Princess Jasmine."

"Oh pal,"I just declared with an exasperated sigh, my centre rolling to the heavens at the sheer numeral of errors in the"actual bases romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a romance between a Brits Captain of the 25th Regiment of foot, the esteemed"King's Own Borderers,"and his peeress lovemaking, a truthful princess from India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the book with a tatty snap of my hired man, debating for a short-circuit fourth dimension of consigning it to either the trash can or saving it for kindling at the next cookout I have…which is about the only affair it's fit for.

There is one matter I have to say about owning and running your own shop, in this subject I rent clothing, dinner jacket, gowns and all the stuff that goes along with them. This is in addition to being a low load fund with a range of clause from the regular, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still shake my head each time I gaze upon the case of Roman armour on the manakin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own little portion of the world, the wonderful, and hopefully, to be famous one of these daylight,"Phillip's Fabulous style,"run by, of course, Phillip ( me ). It's a dainty, little, summing up and trounce up structure, with a neon sign outside that works most of the time ; though I have to admit, that little jail cell towboat on the roof is a bit of an bother, as every workweek 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 tell the scene you are envisioning, a lone man, boring and average in his own right, dealing with a boring depot, and boring customers, whose routine is the same day in and day out. A very simple, steady, and bit job and life, in which there is only one common denominator the proprietor has to take with :

judgement CRUSHING boredom ! ! !

All too straight for the near component, yet once in a great while, as with last Night, something comes along and turns my short boring populace on its fountainhead, and animation is then never the same…as stopping point night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

Tell you what, let me just begin from the outset, and economise boring you to death…


======
I was reading my latest language book to trying to get word Hindi ; both feet propped up on the desk, leaning too far back in the hot seat and completely oblivious to what was going on in the depot. It took some clock time for my brain to register the fact that, after respective hours of inactiveness, a client has come into the shop class ; clearly indicated by the soft, distinct ding-ding-ding of the warning device on the door.

The exculpated, distinct and logical clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of high gear heels, did not fully register as they closed on my location. The mild, curved and quite paying attention phantasma of my client, blocking part of the overhead firing, still had not penetrated the depths of my gem dim cerebral matter.

"Excuse me sir, but I wish to try this one on,"a diffuse, cultured, and musical voice stated.

looking over the edge of my book I was greeted by a lot that took my breath away !

She could feature been a living goddess who deigned to come down unto the earth and base on balls among mortals. Oh for some reasons the heavens have become most king to me this evening ; or the doors to the depths of Hades have opened, and my eternal doom and eternal damnation is fully at hand. Only a being from another humanity or realism could equate to this expression of living beauty, a true avatar on earth, which deems me worthy for a plain moment of her attention…

Just about five and a half feet in height, lithe and curved in all the powerful places, she stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding a hanger on which hung one of the gowns for renting. The sheer beauty of her drab eyes, coppery peel and pearly dentition was accentuated by the alright, soft, silken black whisker that seemed to dance with life of its own.

She was clad in a simpleton, pick colored, spaghetti strap attire, the lenify trim of floral patterns in deep Amytal and vibrant reds ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and knees. It clung to her consistency like a second layer of skin, showing off each sensuous contour of her flowing feminine form, the nipples of her white meat were seeable through the stuff, 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 descent view of her partially revealed breasts…my eyes, then headway, and the rest of my eubstance moved to restrain that view in sight, following along like one hooked upon a line by the hook of choice, knowing your own doomsday is at hand…

It was a here and now in eternity, leaning slowly across distance and time…

…until I finally tipped too far in the electric chair, crashing to the trading floor when my day of the month with gravity committed me to a group meeting with the firmly concrete floor ; so swiftly did this pass that the peeress before me only had a instant to register the fact, a voiced, musical gasp passing her backtalk as her free mitt shot up to cover it, eyes wide in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the floor, reaching my hand up to get the picture the desk's edge. So far I am not making often of a first impression with the young lady ; and now I need to get back to a proper state of judgment and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my grip on the desk only brought a pile of stacked books by the edge crashing down with full, brief, and brutal sounding impingement upon my concrete dense chief.

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

Finally standing up, I gazed upon that brilliant smile, now grinning wide and partially obliterate behind her one hand, and felt my heart charging into overdrive and my rip building up in temperature while my throat went desiccant than the Sahara Desert.

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

She handed it to me so I could check the tag routine on it ; mind you, I never check the numbers on the gowns, as each one is unique ; it's just that, with her, I wanted to have got 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 cat valium immix with sapphire blues, with ribbon of golden flush, whiteness boo and silver clouds woven into the fabric. I could just guess what it would look like on her, and wound up gulping for a second so I could catch one's breath once again.

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

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

All I could imagine of at this second is how much of an embarrassment I must be to the humans ; here she is, a uncommon gem of the world in my shop, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a quoin of a yard by her escort, then tied to a Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree or post as one stands off to the slope declaring for his companion to get their gunslinger ready…

Then with a savage gleam in his grammatical construction, eye glowing from behind darkened sunglasses, he declares to them in turn,"Aim low gentlemen, his manhood first and forge your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the stand of keys, searching for the one to the changing room. My ear kept track of all sounds, while my judgment generated all manner of ghostly commandos entering, hopping like silent death around the wheel and pedestal of garments toward me with swift death in their script, their mission to deliver the Lady from the ‘ dangerous shop proprietor who dared to face on her ageless beauty…"

Key in manus, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such godless power that I went psyche over heals, rolling across its surface, and landing on the former side upon my ft. Her soft gasp and laugh dancing in those eyes continued when I gave a slight, clumsy and completely inapt bow with a grammatical construction of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One affair I can say about myself is that when I make a complete motley fool of ego in any situation, I do it in dramatic style and flashgun. As they say, if you're going to botch something, do it completely and throw it worth the coming embarrassment.

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

"Jasmine,"she said.

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

Trying to uphold a professional person and dignified composure I set out for the corner of the store, a sheer long walk of about XL or so feet. After unlocking the door and opening it for her, I told her that if she needed anything to just cry as I will be working nearby.

Jasmine kept smiling as she passed me, her arm and hip brushing against my side, close enough to let me smell the sweet perfume she wears ; something akin to cinnamon and honey mixed with rose petals. I followed her effort into the changing room, especially noticing the gentle swaying of her pelvic arch and the bounce of her bottom…until she turned to close the room access and gave me a coy smile with a wink.

Reaching out to steady myself on a textile stand, stunned by this bit of flirting on her component part, I missed and once again got introduced to the fine concept of sombreness and the impact upon the floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this particular fall ; however, the shock did spring the cloths rack just enough to cause it to fall over upon me, and the one just across the aisle from it, and the spate of Koran upon each one as well…

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

Thankfully being of distinctly male heritage, I have inherited the traditional, hard boned, concrete dense head 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 massacre of clothing and books I heard the soft chuckle of girl Jasmine, who looked out from the changing room ; a smile of amusement and mischief on her face, optic dancing with loving and tender laughter - not of scorn but genuine amusement - one arm crossed over her breasts, the gown she has on holding to her waist by the barest of electrostatic.

Just looking upon those hide out rich people beneath her arm, the movement of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly rise and fall like a elegant professional dancer practicing a well known act for lovesome up, made my brain flash into instant steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the vesture and Word. Right now, this was the only when way I could keep my brain off of her ; and the bulging reply my amatory desires have caused, threatening to tear my britches asunder in the front…

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

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

As I passed the changing way, the door was partially opened, and revealed a mickle that would have turned any man into instant ash as the flame of lust consumed him utterly in a heartbeat…

She had one foot raised onto the sitting electric chair each changing room has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer ovalbumin lace ; decorated in the blueprint of flowers, ivy vines and singing birds in flying. It accentuated the coppery tone of her skin, hugging the curvature of her honed muscles, sloping like a glove over her foot and toes.
Inch by inch she moved it steadily up her halcyon wooden leg, causing me to hold in position from the wonder of her every motility, stunner and perfection combining womanly Grace and enshroud strength trench underneath if one bothered to calculate past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a wonder ; a swot dream come lawful is here before me and I just stand there like a gross cretin. I never got around to installing those television security television camera in the changing rooms as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

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

======
Her movement with the stocking continued upward, as she seems totally incognizant of my observing her. I tried to keep moving, but my brain refused to let my feet go forward, backward, or any which way ; same for my head word and eyes, the gray stuff between my ear kept screaming"motility warning signal ! EMERGENCY OVERRIDE ORDERED ! keep female person IN SIGHT ! AT ALL COSTS livelihood female person IN SIGHT"

Now while this was going on, the more socially oriented, etiquette adjust lot of my idea kept up a foresightful, whining, whimpering and pleading tirade ; 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, Miss Jasmine was fully aware of my presence ; a lot to a greater extent than I had assumed just a moment before. Sometimes a man can experience his macrocosm turned on its head and not make a tending at all ; and for me, this was one of those moments.

The stocking had just passed the bend of her knee, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating grinning of her enlightening grin. She gave her oral sex a slim milkshake, one mixing mirth and hidden signification as her hair danced around her cheeks and Chin, then flowed like mulct silk that caressed the halcyon texture of her skin as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one side, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously graceful guided journey up the relaxation of her leg. missy Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few times, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to eddy sensual patterns upon the stockings material, persona of hearts and twine existence, the symbolic representation of old for erotica and fuck expressed in the understood spoken communication of tease and seduction.

But those optic, when they swept up to meet mine, the profundity of them glimmered as twin universes unfolding to limitless depths ; dimensions of sensualness, sexuality, and the rawest of primaeval fiery feminine forces on video display to anyone wishing to defy and step over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, movement drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering mass of her breasts hung full and complimentary for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive swig, its repeat carrying across the store and drawing a soft, luscious giggle from her that sent the two wondrous agglomerate of undefined pleasure to bouncing around. The nipples were fully erect, demanding that I close my mouthpiece, unlock my mentality and get in there to start out giving the absolute terminus ad quem of endurable passion to Miss Jasmine ; and to continue until she is screaming from the lot tops, or I die from sheer exertion during the effort.

My ancestry was boiling with smitten desire, my manhood at the absolute limits of its reach drive ; the holla that filled my brain demanded that I hurry on in an cause to score her and consummate a relationship right hand then and there.

I could imagine that at any moment the fire dismay and skunk detectors would go off ; as I was consumed on the post in body, thinker and soul from the tsunamis of primaeval lecherousness and heat crashing and surging over my soundbox and into the primordial soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the scene of the fire department captain explaining to his chief :"He just erupted into flames and took out fifteen city blocks in the procedure ; though miss Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

Miss Jasmine turned her header in my direction yet again, and she winked.

She turned slightly one more clip and then bent over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silken inglorious laced fabric here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one fix I know that drives women into the heights of ecstatic bliss and the depths of Nirvana when pleasured just right by someone…and then the material shifted just enough, deliberately done on her section, to allow me to behold the mysterious depths of her womanhood.

She stood up to the demarcation line of her wondrous kind ; stretching her paw richly into the air, pulling the brawn of her abdomen taunt to show the unflawed perfection of each one in turn. Then with one arm behind her back, the former behind her neck, she altered her pose many clock time over, shifting foot to metrical foot, side to side, all with the seemliness of a dancer in thoroughgoing control of her total being.

My gaze kept shifting between her and the reflection in the mirror ; my brain in desperate overload as it kept demanding more and to a greater extent remark from all of my senses ; with each affectation, every subtle and absolute change in military capability and video display of swan like grace in motion, the paradigm infused into my memory, branded there for all of clip to come.

putting both of her helping hand behind her neck, turning her chest of drawers slightly to one side, she looked upon me and gave off a grand smile that would send a million 1000000 of men racing to carry forth her every human activity, and die felicitous to take made such an effort.

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

"Uh, distressing Miss Jasmine, I did not hear you the first time…"I belatedly said with uttermost cluelessness.

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

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

Can a man possibly earn Sir Thomas More of a fool of himself than doing that ?

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very kind of you to say so ; not very many would ease up such an good, from the warmness type of compliment. to the highest degree of the men and charwoman I deal with in the business world are as ruthless and relentless as a swarm of vipers in the midst of a killing frenzy,"she said.

"Vipers in a violent death craze ?"I softly inquired of from fille Jasmine.

She just nodded, not the nod of one trying to intimidate another ; nor that of dissuading a man from paying any tending to her in turn. Just the nod of one retentive acquainted with danger on a larger and much more deadly shell than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My draught probably sent shockwaves across the entire urban center ; causing heads to reverse in wonderment, preserve for a handful who would have knowing face on their faces, approaching the threshold of my shop at any moment, hands hidden in their deep coats…

So who would it be concerning Miss Jasmine and their response in finding me staring at her feminine strain of inviolable wonderment…

Would it be a last, not so friendly,"evening comrade"from the ‘ men in smuggled'of the KGB just before they use the hush side arm to sate me wide-cut of golf hole and sack my shop ? Or the ever efficient, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by Miss Jasmine's Godfather guardian, to"give Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the next turning of the ignition system transposition, erupts into a egg of fervency and million fragments of alloy tearing my carcase into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her Majesties Secret service, the infamous, double-oh's, who would do me in via a poison hotdog, cyanide in the soda, exploding outflow pen. Oh I could see the last one all too well in my worst pipe dream of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the headphone, and need to drive a message down, I tell the person on the other end,"just a instant and I will save this down,"I click the pen, and the plosion takes out the intact shop and all for ten engine block around while the operator calmly tells the other party on the phone"I am sorry, it appears your claim has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between split fingerbreadth, seeing the soft petty pout on her face while she spoke of these early dishonest people. It gave me the additional picture that they saw her as one of three affair : honest competition due to her beauty, a one clip conquest in bed or a voltage playfellow and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to hear they treat you that way ; hopefully this gown will interchange their minds, not to remark sprain a few headway on somebody as wonderful as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

Of course of study, I suddenly thought, she could be an international assassinator and agent…

She smiled a grinning like the richest of bee's honey, teasingly running her spit along her lips as she looked down at my humanity. The firstly intimation lead of sweat were commencing their journey down my forehead, my cheeks flushing from scourge filled heat, though she probably assumed it was generated for a dissimilar reason.

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

"Your welcome Miss Jasmine, more than than welcome,"I headed back to my desk, wondering just how a lot trouble I have stumbled into tonight ; and listened to her singing a diffuse, haunting melody in the words of India, beautiful as a ambition and as longing as a tale told…

The very Bible I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the story of the Brits maitre d'hotel of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the respect"King's Own Borderers,"who in the twelvemonth 1869, made his last rack in the deserts and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to question, did she read the Scripture, learn a genuine tale the book is based upon…or is she a ghost of some variety maybe that of the recollective lost Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any more venture had to wait as I walked into the nook of my desk, the head jutting out in the anatomy of a griffon delivering the total, dogged force of Sir Henry Wood directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the ground, mewling like a kitten as my eyes crossed over.

"Federal Reserve note to self,"I pitifully cried out,"never do that again."



*********************
cover at my desk I just fidgeted with the paperwork, all of it done long ago as I waited for Jasmine to add up into view. I hoped that she would want to hire the nightdress and several others, maybe even to become a unfaltering client for the shop.

Although that scrubs she has selected would hug her digit so tightly that one amiss move would sunder it to the finest degree ; a sight any man and many cleaning woman would savour to the fullest !

Oh how I could see it happening…

She starts walking up the gangway, her senior high bounder doing their steady clip-clip-clip-clip with each step she takes.

Her torso would set the gown to gleaming in the spark, swirling with the sapphire Amytal and emerald greens as a sea of iridescent beauty ebbing and flowing ; her rosehip swaying ever so gently from side to side, causing her tomentum to ricochet playfully where it sweeps down over her articulatio humeri, ending just above those rattling chest that strain for freedom underneath the fabric.

Those blue eyes dancing with mood and mischief, showing she wants the nightdress for the Nox, and maybe for her own later on as a purchase.

Then one step upshot in the sudden lacrimation sound of cloth strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the cloth tears away from her body, from one side to the other, leaving her momentarily in shock and unbelief at the perfidy it displayed ; leaving her white meat fully exposed, her o.k. hourglass figure shown to the world, and those stockings and undergarments the solitary covering she has.

And then her smile widens as she stands there with one hand on her hip, arm hang at the elbow, the other one playing in her hair as she asks of me…

"Excuse me Mr. Phillips, how do you think it looks on me ?"

I snapped out of my revery to see Jasmine standing in front of the desk ; bent forward to enable a grand old view of her partially covered bosom.

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

Her middle showed a coy expression and she blew me a kiss.

My heart felt like it would instantly explode as my body becomes a pile of smoldering ash tree as a flash flack chimneysweep me away into the afterlife.

Heaven above that gown matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a endorsement skin from her breast to the middle of her thighs. How it kept from going into instant failure of the material I could not understand, as there should be no elbow room for any crusade at all, let alone the soft and firm breathing she does, letting her bosom rise and fall in such a way as to take all men's attention instantly.

Putting her men on hips, weapon system bent at the elbows, she did a serial of after part and one-half turns for me to see the full getup. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, bent at the stifle, upon its surface, allowing me to see the hem of the gown give way to the cop 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 free hand, swirling the finger's breadth peak in slack circle and teasing spirals.

I could smell her perfume, the heady mixture of body lotion and shampoo for her hair's-breadth swirling into the odor of the workshop and the other clothing ; along with the leather financial backing of my old part chair.

"Mr. Phillip's how does the gown look on me ?"she asked one Sir Thomas More time.

I finally managed to get my rima oris to link with my brain and speak :

"Miss Jasmine if there was a poll placed upon your head with one hundred finely cut, unflawed infield they would still pale when compared to the admiration you present to my old, tire out eyes."

She giggled in delight, bringing a flush of farthest overplus to my face.

The nightdress was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

I am really glad my knickers were still hidden by the desk, as the exigent she began caressing my cheek, my very humanity rose swiftly to the moment and hit its climax almost instantly. It would have been amount gangrene for her to see my own cum staining office of my britches.

It's a skilful thing I do save a few set of extra wearable of my own here at the shop, including new underwear.


*************************
As it turned out, not as splendid as I had hoped ; for as it has become usual for me, old Murphy and his most ill-famed of Laws came home to roost.

Jasmine stood there, a hornpout of letdown on her boldness, eyes downcast as she understood her available monetary resource were just shy of the repository and rental fees for the gown.

The departure was very small, only a few dollars, and I did not want to lack a letting or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her heart on that one surgical gown, and I figured if I cut some falling off, it would ameliorate the odds of her becoming a repetition customer.

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

"Just think of, that the robe has to be back tonight ; by closing meter ; 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, giddy with excitement.

"Maybe we could have some fun here at the store ?"I asked and then grimaced as my foot once again hoist up in my rima oris. I fully expected to get slapped or kicked in a fad of feminine ira, one I so rightfully deserve for such a statement.

Her paw flew up to compensate her rima oris, which just hung open in a silent, shocked gasp of amazement from my utterly bold and stupid inquiry. Any moment now she will either ramp out of the shop or slap me so hard I will be able to see over my back for the rest of my life…which could cause a few problems with walking forward…

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

"Of line you can,"I said.

She pulled the hard currency for the scrubs's rental out of her purse and bent over the desk to hand it to me, leaning in so close that she suddenly gave me a good 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 kickshaw half roofy on one toe, and strolled out of the shop class ; I watched her every step and menstruation of her organic structure until I crashed over the desk for the instant time this day…not landing on my feet, but into a barrel roll that ended in a rack of cloths.

Thankfully the falling metal crossbar that made up the distance of the wrack missed my head and abdominal cavity ; though as it crashed down upon my chestnuts, I understood once again the classic dread of all men : The nutcracker maneuver.

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


*************************
The remainder of the day was as convention as any before, i.e. oil production. Not that I should quetch, the tidings over the radio has been proclaiming over and over of a ‘ wonderfully strong storm."

The weatherman kept describing it with enjoy :"This violent storm is to be one so knock-down that it will equal that of the calamity of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the intact metropolis will be destroyed. Flooding tens of feet deep will occur in the first few instant ; while construction will be burned by searing electric arc of destructive lightning ; howling fart that will fill you with the direful cry of a banshee on the moors before they pick you up and fling you Swedish mile into the air for a pearl smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the fourth sentence tonight as I turned the brightness level off, exit the shop and bend around to lock the door, the storm brews high-pitched overhead with the rumbling rejoinder of thunder echoing across the cities man made canyon of steel and concrete. flashgun of light come from the lamp posts as the barest of illumination they provide flutter on and off, the brighter New York minute of lightning mixing with the first falling of rain from the heavens to swan an eerie glow across the land between sentence 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 take care at, just an old, very baffle up VW Bug, but its mine…and right next to it is that dingbat weather forecaster broadcasting unrecorded outside the radio station ( also across the street where my car is ).

He goes on and on and on about"…being springy in the marrow of the disaster of the century ; the winds are so fierce that I can barely get wind myself think…'

Of path he is sedately sipping away on a cup of coffee tree between his ‘ desperate, danger filled broadcasts in the heart of the storm.'I just didder my headland at the sheer lip service and hauteur of such a man ; not to mention the fact he has well-nigh of the broadcast equipment upon the top and cap of MY BUG !

"fire it ! May you get your just reinforcement for your act, this is unforgiveable !"I saw the look of utter despite and disgust he gave me, especially as I pointed my remote entrant and car alarm system activation thingmajig ( sounds a lot better saying that than"outback car key") and pushed the button.

My car alarm goes"beep-beep-beep"just as a thundering news bulletin of Light filled the area, the return shattering many a window up and down the block as I stand there taking in the great deal before me…

The weatherman standing, smoldering mike in his hand, charred clothing hanging from his physique, while his oculus are alight in stark scourge as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering spate of twine metal and spare parts, victim of the intense series of lightning dash that happen to hit at that hour.

"Blast, I guess I forgot to turn off the auto destruct switch for my…"I had to smile as the weatherman howled in pure terror and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a tenacious walk of life home in the rain, which is growing in intensity and Leslie Townes Hope I can explain to the insurance policy company of how another car went up in smoke due to a lightning strike…six in one calendar month now.

turning back to the door, I reached for the key again, and enquire again about young lady Jasmine and the grand old fool I have been played for…

Key in the door curl, I prepared to turn it when I heard a feminine voice shouting out for me to hold on and the click-click-click-click of high hound closing as rapidly as their wearer could.

She just stood in front man of me trying to apologize for being late while gasping for breath, the nightgown torture to keep intact as her bosom heaved in and out at an alarming rate. It seems the car bringing her backrest to the shop class had broken down and she literally ran to the memory, trying to get back here in time. Mind you, the gown clings to her body like a second skin, soaked through and through by the rain, allowing her heaving breast to be seen in full detail, including those teat at stark attention, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

Holding the room access open up for her and flicking on the twinkle I told her I would be inside shortly.

Jasmine smiled at me, a coy look on her eyes, lips spread in a grin as her natural language playfully licked and swirled over one of her fingers held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her hips especially mulct, keeping my attention fixed on her bum as she headed for the changing room.

A band of shipboard soldier and their sergeant, out jogging in the pelting, completely uncaring for this fierce tempest passed by and looked briefly at Miss Jasmine with smiles and a quick succession of nods ; their sergeant declaring to the world"Men, now you know one cause we serve on the edge of freedom ; to allow for such a lucky couple to have fun creating the side by side generation of Marines…'

I shook my capitulum in skepticism and started to ill-use forward, amused by their presentation of humor ; only to have the canopy over the room access split open and dump gallons of utterly ice cold pelting water down upon me.

How much More madness is going to occur tonight ?

======
Once inside I found her by my desk, standing ever so patiently, as I had forgotten to have her the key to the changing room. I did manage to observe a consistency towel for her to dry off with as well ; explaining it's a gift 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 drivel I need to conduct with tomorrow morning time. I put it in the usual categories of"pain-in-the-tush debris"to the ‘ I-really-don't-need-this-stress-in-my-life-junk"and the ever nowadays"OH-NO-IT'S-THE-IRS junk."I even took the time to fit my e-mails and saw cipher of importance among them : just the common complaints about my VW germ constantly drawing lightning down into the area and an interrogation from the radio station of the location of their weather forecaster.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodious voice. I have no estimate how long Miss Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my business. But when I looked up, I almost had a heart attempt on the smirch. My brain melted away, bones became mush and heftiness just sagged in the divine revelation before me.

She had placed the wet nightgown off to one side of my desk, and next to that is her own field gown she had on earlier this day. Her pocketbook was on that gown, and atop it laid her high heels and undergarment. Those sheer white stockings were the merely affair else on as she stood there, smiling, mitt on her hips and one leg slightly crossed in front end of the former.

Oh my stars !

All I could do was stare upon her with wonderment as I fought to hit controller over my body.

Her coppery cheeks shined in the luminousness, enhanced by the smile of her lips, those sorry eye dancing with a raw admixture of sense of humor and awakened desire. Her pig hair's-breadth hung across those very well berm, ending just above the pair of breasts so prominent and fine that any man would be proud to stifle between them with a grand old grinning of delight on his face.

Her other manus lay on her hip, legs set to support her pose as a model for a photo shoot would assume ; the Saame affectation that allowed me a full phase of the moon frontlet perspective of her publicize womanhood !

My middle went to pounding so profligate I had to question if those temblor measuring simple machine were registering the event. I imagined the full blockage must be slowly shaking to bit, so knockout and fast was it pounding away.

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

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

Mind 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 part.

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

"You said you wanted to suffer some fun, so that is what I am going to do ; a bargain is a quite a little after all,"she said to me. I just could not consider this is happening. Here it is, late in the eve, a rough storm raging outdoor and I am here with a lady that well-nigh men could only dream of having nearby, let alone having anything occurring between them !

My judgement raced at the mystery of how very much she has planned for the two of us tonight…

I can hardly wait to recover out…

She came over to the binding of my desk, eased down across it on her stomach and looked back over her shoulder at me with the biggest smiling I have ever seen on a lady. Her legs shifted slightly, bending into the air at the human knee as I got a clear persuasion of her naked fair sex. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a tertiary time before rolling over onto her back, grasping her genu to bosom with her hands.

Her giggle drew my gaze up to her face, to see her glimmering smile, and a three-fold twinkling to me.

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

With one finger she motioned for me to fare closer.

I could see her knocker hanging down, moving ever so slightly with each action she undertook ; even swirling her top dog around to send hair back over her shoulder joint made them leap and jiggle, holding my interest like a vice around a pipe.

I gave out a picayune squeaking sound and scooted my electric chair finisher to her.

Jasmine moved one deal upward, her fingerbreadth gently touching my buttock, moving in a inward coil only to revoke direction and retell the pattern twice more, drawing a heated kick to my case ; my breath was beginning to voice like a broken Solomon Bellow, raspy and heated, as the fires of desire stoked higher and higher in my body.

One part of my brain was screaming for me to flee, howling in terror, into the storm outside.

The early, the dower gradually gaining land ; said to let it happen and bask the ride !

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my chin and jaw, then my lips in iterate round with a teasing probe of my tongue. 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 nozzle and across my brow, then covering my ear.

Each instant of motion set my body temperature higher and higher ; feeling like my body should disappear in a blast of steam that would ingest me utterly.


She put her script firmly behind my neck opening, drawing me nigher as she slowly moved forward.

Her candy kiss was one of pure fire and lightning ; surging across each and every fiber of my consistency. I could feel the sweat beginning to come out on my skin, my manhood rising in good to the bit, as on my lips the salty gustatory perception of her own flowed and measured, bringing a refined taste that mixed with the strawberry flavored lipstick she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my world prostration in on it, Nirvana has been achieved ! ! !

Then she planted that fiery, love filled, electrifying second kiss, followed by a 3rd, and even a twenty-five percent ; each one redoubling the saturation of the preceding kiss.

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

Her giggling intensified when my hands reached up and encompassed those wonderful chest, shortly to stroke and massage so gently the nipples and flesh wherever I could reach. They felt so easy, fond and wonderful to my touch ; her middle closed, neck opening arching slightly as she braced her hands - one on the desk, the other moving from my neck opening to my shoulder.

I heard a small, content sigh pass her lips.

I started to kiss her neck, taking great delight in the gustatory sensation of her skin ; a intermixture of odour arising of her perfume and personal smells ; along with that from her earlier dinner - fine steak with sauce, broiled veggie, and the ripe aroma of clover and vinegar from a English dishful of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to start kissing my neck with such force I imagined there would be lip marks well into the next calendar month. I could feel the lovingness of her quickening breath, the fires edifice in her body from the attention 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 sassing as this happened, puckering and nibbling on them ; as she gave that oh-so-innocent look on her case, while her eyes danced with defection of all control over her burning passion.

When her foot wound up stroking my humanness I thought I would burst out into flames. It was all that I could do to keep my manhood from pushing over the edge and hitting my press release ; I did not desire this fun to end any time soon.

That uncivilised fire of her centre redoubled, and redoubled again ; I knew then and there I was doomed, and to be true, I did not care.

brace on one arm, she brought her other hand to her brim, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the digit ; and then playfully sucking away as her center and grin enticed me into their depths. Then her script commenced to move down her trunk, teasing rophy on her pectus ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small circles and spirals she executes, the nipples firmly at attention and then some. She brings each one up to her lips, sucking and licking them gently, eyes locked upon me with a content that the fun was about to contact a new level of chroma.

I put my hands on her one leg, gently running them over the firm muscles, caressing and softly massaging each in turn of events, working my way up to her interior second joint. Where the material of her stocking gave way to flesh, I made sure to redouble my feat, seeking each spot that would cause a shivering, quivering or giggle deriving bit of sensory faculty.

I moved my hot seat in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her legs up upon my articulatio humeri ; then commenced to kiss her further and further upwards toward her pelvis. She lay back, middle closing once again as I drew closer to her womanhood ; intimation becoming blend with soft cooing and mouse like squeaks, lips being gnawed on as desires combine and flowed, hands covering her oral cavity as the fingers made flabby balls, only to let go and tighten again moments later.

I commenced to gently blow soft puffs of air onto her second joint, alternating side to side, generating small-scale riffle of delectation from her with each one. Finally as I closed within orbit of her nigh private of expanse, one puff followed another, causing her to twist and dance about while a fountain of titter and squeals erupted past her back talk ; hired man covering up the growing bloom on her glistening skin.

When my tongue slid within those wizardly depth, savoring the taste of flesh and mixture of texture, the heat of her body and aroma mixing one into another with the pace of a coursing river, her hips swayed about, back arching to the heavens and her hands flying down to snap up my head, firmly holding me in place.

I had to hale my way up enough to take a breathing space before she shoved me back down yet again.

For a moment I could see my tombstone, engraved upon its marble surface the words :

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

As my relief reached the shroud orbit deep within, that one location bringing maximal pleasure to all women, she thrust one leg straight out against the unit of shelves I use for record book computer memory ; it promptly collapsed into a heap of wreckage with a clank both of us ignored.

to a greater extent and more my exploration and ministration flowed into a series of letter fashion across the first principle and varying in speed and forcefulness ; I just wanted now and always to pull in every oz. of wonderment and passion I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chairwoman sliding out from under me, leaving gravity briefly in command of my lot until the flooring rushed up to thwack solidly into my trunk ; the chairman rolled with some force backwards, bouncing off the paries and into a nearby cloths rack, which promptly toppled over into another, and a Chain reaction commenced across the store…half the racks collapsing or toppling over by the time it ended.

As I climbed back up to my knee joint, looking at the utter devastation, then back to her, she giggled and covered her oral fissure with one manus, giving off a flabby"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 mode was done for - the devastation of a shop can have got that burden on a night of intimate action between two people…

"Well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the succeeding language out of my back talk other than as a mixture of squeals and peals as she moved up redress next to me, one hand pressing the modest of my back while the other slid down my britches, and commenced to massage my humanness along its full-of-the-moon orbit ( with the smallish size that is of course of study not saying much ).

I just looked at her with a sheepish smile on my boldness as her succour threatened to send me into split second and dispatch meltdown.

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

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 lean upon it as she went to her stifle ; easing off my shoes and the surrounding britches, then my underpants.

Her hands came back to continue their joyous succor of my manhood, each movement sending a series of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying champion into my brain. My eyes felt like they would thwart over to the other socket and continue right out of my ears, which had to ingest smoke bellowing out in newspaper column for anyone to smell and see.

It took every bit of restraint I had left to keep from hitting my sack then and there ; especially when those soft lips closed about it, the affectionateness of her backtalk adding more and more to my own as she teased away upon it. I heard and felt my ventilation becoming deeper and faster, the sounds of a Bellow being driven by a windstorm would sound tame in comparison !

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

The room felt like it was spinning unit of ammunition and cycle, the sounds of the rain and rejoinder of lightning shaking and quaking the building ; lights flickering on and off with each finish strike.

I felt like she was drawing what remained of my mastermind out of me ; one cellular telephone and neuron at a time.

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

With no disinclination I slid my humanity deep into her eubstance, feeling the firm holds of her muscle, the warmth of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to make the culmination last as long as potential for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a point was hit in which my consistence started to throw off and quake, the entire wave of pleasure reaching new heights.

My roars of passion soon were joined by hers ; as the two of us moved in a rhythm that grew between us ; not perfect but shut down enough.

She shouted something in her indigen speech of Hindi, then again in another - I assumed screams of pleasure and intense passionate touch sensation that must be flowing through her at that moment.

Then she shouted out to me, trashy and clear :

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

Faster and firm I continued pumping away, until the line was crossed and a scream of primordial warmth went roaring from my lips…

Okay it was more like a shrieking of an plane crossed with a break dance down washer.

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a third metre my release hit, sending my life seminal fluid deeply into her body.

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

Jasmine hit her release at the same New York minute as my own, her body having shook with such force-out and upheaval that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a fast grab by me, implements of war around her waist and chest kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a grinning of contentment and wonderment on her cheek. For a moment her gaze went downward to her thigh, which I saw had a tincture of my liveliness seed mixed with her sack flowing downward.

"I'm sorry about the entrepot Mr. Phillip's, I did not ever imagine such a muddle could occur from our fun tonight ; how much is this going to be me to get it fixed ?"

I saw the realise headache in her optic, the prediction of some outrageous amount, or some variety of outburst on my part.

"I don't know ; my policy should cover most of it, just going to guide a few twenty-four hours to get everything back in one spell before I can spread again. All of that business being lost will be a problem with my greenback coming due in the next week or so,"I had to shake my head as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me make a straightaway call…"she went to her purse and stood there, debating with someone on the other end of her cellular telephone phone ; mind you she was still in her natal day cause, so I got a wonderful show of her every move 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 cover everything that needs fixing and your line losses ; her secretarial assistant fille Shannon will be here in the daybreak to make an initial estimation with you."

"Where does your mother get that variety of money from ?"Was she truly the daughter of a Mafia Godfather ? Or yet risky, A Maffia Godmother ; one who knows my name and address now and will demand due recompense in the most painful and final of sadistic means for a bit of company with her daughter ?

Or will the Godmother simply have it be the usual - cement skid and Sir Ernst Boris Chain, then a legal brief car ride to the wharfage and into the ocean I go…

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

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

I looked at the door, expecting her bodyguard or assassins dispatched by her mother to derive in and span her away to rubber, while reducing me and my shop to a slew of smoldering lighting after introducing me to all manner of delightful tortures to insidious and hideous to contemplate…

Her gentle, bubbling laughter snapped me back to the here and now. Obviously she gets my form of response with a lot of normal people."Mr. Phillips my mother does not have people ‘ taken care of'like in those screwball motion-picture show 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 manner orgy of 1969'and thoroughly enjoyed myself."

"Oh and Mr. Phillip's I want to thank you for reading that Koran on your desk ; it's not the ripe fable in the universe I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her smile was one of genuine mischief-making, which let me have a go at it how horrendous the Good Book really reads.

"William Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my voice, I will not only tell my friend to come here for the Charles Herbert Best nightdress around ; I will amount by each nighttime and bed you, for as long as you want, as many multiplication 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 point dwelling house for the night ; she mentioned in passing that she will have some friends with her the succeeding evening for our"fun"after the store closes. I wondered if the construction would even hold up ; let alone be standing if another such dark is held in the place…of grade it would be fun to find out ! ! !


( fin. )