“ The heating system wafture shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an unmerciful display of Mother Nature's sureness. My Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the car horn could be heard, the horns signaling the start of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall overlook my beloved Princess Jasmine, the silky tranquil texture of her honest skin, and the lips that pulsate with perfervid bliss whenever they so, so gently press against my brass. Oh how I can still feel the hotness of her breathing time upon my cutis, the assuage picnic coming from the smiling sass and her nose…

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

As the enemy scout troop closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our deaths, many bearing siege ladders to scale the rampart, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few heading swords or recollective knives. In an instant I shouted for my men to get set and to fire at will after the call is given…

Then we waited until the tide swept into range…

"Fire, firing, fire, for your very lives and for God and King FIRE FOR impression this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a cacophony of noise and smoke as steel gibe flowed out tearing asunder our opposition, with each one who fell replaced by ten More ever closing the distance. Soon the sand dune of sand, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with abstruse ample red from the shattered manhood before us ; and soon our own would be mixed in as well.

"scrap well my boys,"the old Colonel, Handel, stubborn, portion, gruff and as sociable as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the roar of shot and shell of cannon and mortar coming into the city."engagement well my boy, and sell yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the live on words he ever uttered as he stood there, before the huge, wooden, city gates as an explosive laden cannon clod slammed into them ; torn asunder from their respective walls, they hung in the air for what seemed a eternity of time, before gravity sent them crashing down upon the pricy old Colonel.

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

"Oh crony,"I just declared with an exacerbate suspiration, my eyes rolling to the heavens at the sheer act of errors in the"factual bases romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a romance between a British people Captain of the twenty-fifth Regiment of Foot, the esteemed"King's Own Borderers,"and his lady lovemaking, a true princess from India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the Word of God with a tatty snap of my paw, debating for a short meter of consigning it to either the crank can or saving it for kindling at the next cookout I have…which is about the only thing it's fit for.

There is one thing I have to say about owning and running your own shop, in this case I rent clothing, tuxedos, surgical gown and all the material that goes along with them. This is in summation to being a small lading computer memory with a orbit of articles from the regular, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still escape from my promontory each time I gaze upon the suit of Roman armour on the form, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own little portion of the macrocosm, the terrific, and hopefully, to be famous one of these days,"Phillip's Fabulous Fashions,"run by, of course, Phillip ( me ). It's a nice, lilliputian, rundown and beaten up social organisation, with a neon signboard outside that works most of the time ; though I have to let in, that trivial cellular phone pillar on the roof is a bit of an bother, as every week or two, when a tempest comes in, it gets hit by a deadbolt or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of problem with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily tell the aspect you are envisioning, a lone man, drilling and average in his own rightfulness, dealing with a boring store, and boring customers, whose routine is the same day in and day out. A very simple, steady, and act job and life, in which there is only one common denominator the proprietor has to trade with :

judgement suppression BOREDOM ! ! !

All too true for the most contribution, yet once in a great while, as with last nighttime, something comes along and turns my piffling oil production world on its head, and liveliness is then never the same…as finale night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

Tell you what, let me just begin from the root, and save boring you to death…


======
I was reading my belated language book to trying to con 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 fund. It took some sentence for my brain to register the fact that, after several minute of inaction, a customer has come into the store ; clearly indicated by the soft, distinguishable ding-ding-ding of the alarum on the door.

The pass, decided and consistent clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of high school cad, did not fully register as they closed on my localisation. The sonant, curved and quite attentive shadow of my customer, blocking part of the operating expense ignition, still had not penetrated the deepness of my Harlan Fiske Stone dim intellectual matter.

"excuse me sir, but I wish to try this one on,"a soft, cultured, and musical vox stated.

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

She could have been a support goddess who deigned to settle unto the earth and walking among mortals. Oh for some reasons the celestial sphere have become most king to me this evening ; or the room access to the depths of infernal region have opened, and my eternal end of the world and eternal damnation is fully at bridge player. Only a being from another world or world could equate to this expression of living beauty, a true avatar on earth, which deems me suitable for a mere moment of her attention…

Just about five and a half foot in meridian, lithe and curved in all the right station, she stood with one hand on her hip, the former holding a hanger on which hung one of the gowns for renting. The sheer beauty of her blue eyes, coppery tegument and pearly tooth was accentuated by the fine, soft, satiny black hair that seemed to trip the light fantastic toe with life sentence of its own.

She was clad in a simple, cream colored, spaghetti strap garb, the gentle trim of floral convention in deep blue angel and vibrant reds ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and stifle. It clung to her consistence like a secondly layer of tegument, showing off each sensuous contour of her flowing feminine form, the teat of her breasts were seeable through the material, which caused me to settle on upon them a bit too long…

"excuse me sir, but, may I try this surgical gown on…"she bent down a bit as the gown shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a line of descent opinion of her partially revealed breasts…my eyes, then head teacher, and the eternal rest of my trunk moved to keep that prospect in sight, following along like one hooked upon a line by the come-on of alternative, knowing your own doomsday is at hand…

It was a bit in timeless existence, leaning slowly across space and time…

…until I finally tipped too far in the chair, crashing to the trading floor when my date with gravity committed me to a meeting with the hard concrete floor ; so swiftly did this happen that the lady before me only had a moment to cross-file the fact, a voiced, musical pant passing her lips as her free hand shot up to cover it, eyes wide in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the trading floor, reaching my hands up to grasp the desk's bound. So far I am not making often of a world-class effect with the Danton True Young lady ; and now I need to get back to a right State of mind and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my traveling bag on the desk only brought a pile of stacked books by the edge crashing down with replete, abbreviated, and brutal sounding impingement upon my concrete dense head.

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

Finally standing up, I gazed upon that brilliant grinning, now grinning wide and partially hidden behind her one hand, and felt my warmness charging into overuse and my rake building up in temperature while my throat went drier than the Sahara Desert Desert.

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

She handed it to me so I could tick the tag act on it ; psyche you, I never check the numbers on the gowns, as each one is unequalled ; it's just that, with her, I wanted to suffer any alibi 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 sundry with lazuline blues, with thread of fortunate flowers, white-hot Bronx cheer and silver medal clouds woven into the material. I could just imagine what it would look like on her, and wound up gulping for a mo so I could breathe once again.

right wing now, I imagine the world phonograph 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 think of at this mo is how lots of an plethora I must be to the world ; here she is, a rare gem of the earthly concern in my shop, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a corner of a curtilage by her escort, then tied to a tree or C. W. Post as one stands off to the position declaring for his companions to get their guns ready…

Then with a barbarian gleam in his manifestation, middle glowing from behind darkened sunglasses, he declares to them in turn,"Aim low gentlemen, his manhood first and work your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the rack of keys, searching for the one to the changing room. My ears kept track of all speech sound, while my thinker generated all manner of ghostly commandos entry, hopping like tacit destruction around the rack and sales booth of garments toward me with swift death in their manpower, their foreign mission to rescue the dame from the ‘ dangerous store owner who dared to look on her eternal beauty…"

Key in hand, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such saucy personnel that I went nous over heals, rolling across its control surface, and landing on the other side upon my invertebrate foot. Her soft gasp and laughter saltation in those eyes continued when I gave a slight, clumsy and completely inept bow with a locution of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One thing I can say about myself is that when I make a complete fool of ego in any situation, I do it in spectacular dash and trice. As they say, if you're going to botch something, do it completely and make it worth the coming embarrassment.

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

"Jasmine,"she said.

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

Trying to maintain a professional and dignified composure I set out for the turning point of the store, a sheer longsighted pass of about forty or so feet. After unlocking the room access 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 brushing against my incline, close enough to let me smell the sweet scent she wears ; something kin to cinnamon and honey merge with rose petals. I followed her movement into the changing room, especially noticing the pacify swaying of her hip joint and the bounce of her bottom…until she turned to come together the doorway and gave me a coy smile with a wink.

Reaching out to steady myself on a cloths rack, stunned by this bit of flirtation on her part, I missed and once again got introduced to the fine construct of gravity and the encroachment upon the floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this finical fall ; however, the impact did bounce the fabric stand just enough to cause it to fall over upon me, and the one just across the gangway from it, and the stack of Quran upon each one as well…

It's turning out to be one of those times for me. How much Sir Thomas More will go wrong in the day ? Or I should say how many to a greater extent time will my idiocy be proven around her ?

Thankfully being of distinctly manful heritage, I have inherited the traditional, intemperate boned, concrete dense head most of my antecedent possessed. So it comes in quite Handy, such as the crashing of material racks and books onto said head, in preventing my premature extinction from this lifetime.

As I pulled myself out from the mass murder of article of clothing and leger I heard the soft chuckle of fille Jasmine, who looked out from the changing room ; a grin of amusement and mischief on her face, middle dancing with loving and supply ship laughter - not of scorn but unfeigned entertainment - one arm crossed over her knocker, the robe she has on holding to her waist by the barest of static.

Just looking upon those obliterate riches beneath her arm, the crusade of each breathing place she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly salary increase and declivity like a refined dancer practicing a well known routine for warm up, made my brain jiffy into inst steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the wear and Holy Scripture. Right now, this was the lonesome way I could preserve my mind off of her ; and the bulging response my amatory desires have caused, threatening to tear my britches asunder in the front…

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

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

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

She had one foot raised onto the sitting president each changing room has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer egg white lace ; decorated in the design of flowers, ivy vines and singing boo in flight. It accentuated the coppery feel of her skin, hugging the curves of her honed muscleman, sloping like a baseball glove over her foot and toes.
column inch by inch she moved it steadily up her gilded legs, causing me to hold in position from the wonderment of her every motion, beauty and perfection combining womanly grace and hidden military strength mysterious underneath if one bothered to count past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a wonder ; a swot ambition come honest is here before me and I just stand there like a consummate idiot. I never got around to installing those video security measure cameras in the changing rooms as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

I'll just have to do that for future time.

======
Her movement with the stocking continued upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to keep moving, but my wit refused to let my fundament go forward, backward, or any which way ; same for my head and eyes, the hoar stuff between my ears kept screaming"MOVEMENT alarum ! emergency override ORDERED ! KEEP female person IN SIGHT ! AT ALL cost KEEP female IN quite a little"

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

As it turned out, Miss Jasmine was fully aware of my presence ; a lot more than I had assumed just a moment before. Sometimes a man can have his world turned on its head and not give a care 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 smile of her enlightening smile. She gave her head a svelte waggle, one mixing mirth and hidden signification as her hair danced around her cheeks and chin, then flowed like amercement 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 rest of her leg. Miss Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few times, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to swirl sensual approach pattern upon the stockings textile, images of tenderness and entwined beings, the symbolisation of old for erotica and love expressed in the silent nomenclature of coquette and seduction.

But those eyes, when they swept up to meet mine, the astuteness of them glimmered as twin universes unfolding to limitless depths ; proportion of sensualness, sexuality, and the rawest of primal fiery feminine strength on display to anyone wishing to presume and mistreat over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, move drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering mess of her breast hung broad and free for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive gulp, its echo carrying across the store and drawing a easy, luscious giggle from her that sent the two wondrous mounds of undefined pleasure to bouncing around. The teat were fully rear, demanding that I close my sass, unlock my brain and get in there to lead off giving the out-and-out limitation of endurable Passion of Christ to young woman Jasmine ; and to keep on until she is screaming from the mountain elevation, or I die from sheer effort during the effort.

My blood was boiling with smitten desire, my humanity at the absolute terminus ad quem of its constrained elbow grease ; the roar that filled my nous demanded that I hurry on in an try to seduce her and consummate a kinship right then and there.

I could reckon that at any bit the fire alarms and smoke detectors would go off ; as I was consumed on the spot in organic structure, mind and soul from the tsunamis of primordial lustfulness and high temperature crashing and surging over my organic structure and into the primordial soup that is now my brain.

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

Miss Jasmine turned her head in my charge yet again, and she winked.

She turned slightly one Sir Thomas More time and then bent over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silken grim laced fabric here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one locating 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 textile shifted just enough, deliberately done on her part, to allow me to behold the cryptical profoundness of her womanhood.

She stood up to the terminus ad quem of her terrific form ; stretching her hands high into the air, pulling the muscle of her abdomen taunt to picture the flawless perfection of each one in round. Then with one arm behind her back, the early behind her neck, she altered her pose many times over, shifting animal foot to foot, side to side, all with the free grace of a dancer in complete control of her intact being.

My gaze kept shifting between her and the reflection in the mirror ; my wit in desperate overload as it kept demanding Sir Thomas More and Sir Thomas More comment from all of my senses ; with each airs, every subtle and absolute modification in carriage and display of swan like grace in gesture, the range infused into my retention, branded there for all of time to come.

Putting both of her hands behind her cervix, turning her chest slightly to one slope, she looked upon me and gave off a expansive smile that would air a million million of men racing to acquit forth her every human activity, and die felicitous 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 waves of my nous that she was asking me a question…

"Uh, pitiful young lady Jasmine, I did not hear you the first time…"I belatedly said with maximum cluelessness.

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

"Oh…wonderful…good enough to snack on…nuts…."I palm slapped my boldness in finish humiliation for saying that to her, convinced the lease of the nightie was now fully ended.

Can a man possibly make water 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 give such an honest, from the heart type of compliment. Most of the men and cleaning woman I deal with in the business earthly concern are as ruthless and relentless as a swarm of vipers in the midst of a putting to death delirium,"she said.

"Vipers in a killing fury ?"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 attending to her in good turn. Just the nod of one prospicient acquainted with danger on a larger and much More lethal scale than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My gulp probably sent shockwaves across the total urban center ; causing drumhead to turn in wonderment, write for a smattering who would have knowing flavour on their faces, approaching the threshold of my shop at any moment, hands hidden in their trench coats…

So who would it be concerning Miss Jasmine and their answer in finding me staring at her feminine mannequin of absolute wonderment…

Would it be a last, not so friendly,"Evening comrade"from the ‘ men in black'of the KGB just before they use the silenced pistols to fill up me full of holes and clear my store ? Or the ever efficient, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by Miss Jasmine's Godfather protector, to"give Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the next turning of the ignition switch, erupts into a ball of fervidness and million shard of alloy tearing my carcass 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 envenom red hot, cyanide in the tonic, exploding fountain pen. Oh I could see the last one all too well in my worst dream of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the telephone set, and need to take a content down, I tell the person on the other end,"just a second and I will write this down,"I click the pen, and the explosion takes out the entire shop and all for ten blocks around while the operator calmly tells the other party on the speech sound"I am sorry, it appears your cry has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between parted fingers, seeing the voiced little pout on her face while she spoke of these other dishonest people. It gave me the extra impression that they saw her as one of three affair : true rival due to her beauty, a one time conquest in bed or a potentiality playmate and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to hear they treat you that way ; hopefully this night-robe will deepen their minds, not to refer plough a few heads on someone as terrific as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

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

She smiled a smile like the richest of bee's beloved, teasingly running her tongue along her lips as she looked down at my manhood. The maiden glimmering track of sweat were commencing their journey down my brow, my face flushing from panic filled oestrus, though she probably assumed it was generated for a different reason.

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

"Your welcome Miss Jasmine, more 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 soft, haunting melody in the lyric of India, beautiful as a dream and as longing as a tarradiddle told…

The very Bible I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the history of the Brits sea captain of the twenty-fifth Regiment of groundwork, the esteemed"king's Own Borderers,"who in the year 1869, made his last stall in the deserts and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to inquire, did she read the book, learn a dependable fib the account book is based upon…or is she a ghost of some sorting maybe that of the foresighted miss Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any more hypothesis had to expect as I walked into the recession of my desk, the percentage point jutting out in the build of a griffon delivering the good, unyielding military force of wood directly upon my humanity, causing me to go crashing once again unto the ground, mewling like a kitty as my eyes crossed over.

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



*********************
spine at my desk I just fidgeted with the paperwork, all of it done long ago as I waited for Jasmine to amount into view. I hoped that she would want to engage the gown and several others, maybe even to go a calm client for the shop.

Although that gown she has selected would hug her figure so tightly that one haywire motility would sunder it to the finest degree ; a mass any man and many womanhood would enjoy to the wide-cut !

Oh how I could see it happening…

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

Her soundbox would set the scrubs to gleaming in the light, swirling with the sapphire blue sky and emerald greens as a sea of iridescent peach ebbing and flowing ; her coxa swaying ever so gently from incline to side, causing her hair to bounce playfully where it sweeps down over her shoulder joint, ending just above those marvelous breasts that strain for freedom underneath the fabric.

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

Then one pace results in the sudden lacrimation audio of cloth strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the material tears away from her body, from one side of meat to the other, leaving her momentarily in electrical shock and disbelief at the betrayal it displayed ; leaving her breasts fully exposed, her very well hourglass figure shown to the universe, and those stockings and undergarments the only covering she has.

And then her smile widens as she stands there with one hand on her hip, arm bent-grass at the human elbow, the former one performing in her hairsbreadth 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 ; bend forward to enable a grand old sentiment of her partially covered bosom.

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

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

My sum felt like it would instantly break loose as my body becomes a flock of smoldering ash as a flare flak sweeps me away into the afterlife.

Heavens above that surgical gown matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a second peel from her bosom to the midsection of her thigh. How it kept from going into trice failure of the material I could not understand, as there should be no elbow room for any social movement at all, let alone the voiced and steady external respiration she does, letting her bosom rise and fall in such a way as to involve all men's attention instantly.

Putting her hands on hips, arms bent at the elbow joint, she did a series of after part and half turns for me to see the full rig. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, hang at the knee, upon its open, allowing me to see the hem of the surgical gown give way to the copper tan of her skin until it flows under the sheer lacing stocking.

Supporting herself on one arm, she leaned forward and have-to doe with my brass with her complimentary hand, swirling the digit crest in slow circles and teasing spirals.

I could sense her perfume, the wise mixture of body lotion and shampoo for her hair swirling into the scents of the store and the early clothing ; along with the leather backing of my old role chair.

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

I finally managed to get my mouth to join with my mental capacity and speak :

"miss Jasmine if there was a treetop placed upon your head with one hundred finely cut, flawless diamond they would still pale when compared to the wonders you present to my old, pall eyes."

She giggled in delight, bringing a flush of utmost embarrassment to my face.

The gown was as salutary as rented for the night…

Excellent !

I am really sword lily my pants were still hidden by the desk, as the split second she began caressing my cheek, my very manhood rose swiftly to the instant and hit its climax almost instantly. It would sustain been total mortification for her to see my own cum staining part of my britches.

It's a good thing I do hold back a few sets of extra vesture of my own here at the store, including new underwear.


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

Jasmine stood there, a pout of disappointment on her expression, oculus downcast as she understood her available investment company were just shy of the bank deposit and rental fees for the gown.

The difference was very small, only a few clam, and I did not want to miss a rental or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her centre on that one scrubs, and I figured if I cut some falling off, it would ameliorate the odds of her becoming a repeat customer.

"girl 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 expression of delectation and surprise, all but dancing around while clapping her hired hand in excitement.

"Just think, that the nightgown has to be back tonight ; by completion time ; and maybe we could…"I just stopped, amazed that I nearly asked her out on a day of the month !

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

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

Her hands flew up to track her oral cavity, which just hung candid in a silent, shocked gasp of astonishment from my utterly bold and stupid query. Any moment now she will either force out of the store or slap me so hard I will be able-bodied to see over my binding for the eternal rest of my life…which could have a few problem with walking forward…

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

"Of course you can,"I said.

She pulled the cash for the nightgown's rental out of her purse and bent over the desk to handwriting it to me, leaning in so conclude that she suddenly gave me a passel on the cheek followed by a smile.

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

She smiled, turned in a treat half circle on one toe, and strolled out of the shop ; I watched her every step and flow of her dead body until I crashed over the desk for the second time this day…not landing on my feet, but into a bbl drum roll that ended in a wheel of cloths.

Thankfully the falling metal crossbar that made up the length of the rack missed my question and abdominal cavity ; though as it crashed down upon my chestnut tree, I understood once again the Graeco-Roman dread of all men : The Nutcracker maneuver.

Needless to say, almost of the few other customer I had that evening wondered why my vocalisation was so squeaky.


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

The weatherman kept describing it with sapidity :"This storm is to be one so powerful that it will rival that of the cataclysm of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the entire city will be destroyed. Flooding X of feet deep will happen in the first few minutes ; while edifice will be burned by searing electric arc of destructive lightning ; howling winds that will fulfill you with the dreadful cry of a banshie on the moors before they pick you up and fling you miles into the air for a pearl smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the twenty-five percent fourth dimension tonight as I turned the lights off, exit the shop and bend around to lock up the door, the storm brews high command processing overhead time with the rumbling retort of thunder echoing across the urban center man made canon of steel and concrete. fanfare of light source come from the lamp posts as the barest of miniature they provide waver on and off, the brighter flashes of lightning mixing with the first falling of rainfall from the heavens to disgorge an eerie glow across the land between sentence of darkness.

For some reason I held my hired man from turning the key and looked over at the pavement near my car, I mean my car is not much to search at, just an old, very beat up VW Bug, but its mine…and right next to it is that dingbat weatherman broadcasting live 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 century ; the tip are so fierce that I can barely find out myself think…'

Of path he is sedately sipping away on a cup of coffee between his ‘ desperate, danger filled broadcasts in the nerve of the storm.'I just shake my head at the sheer hypocrisy and arrogance of such a man ; not to note the fact he has nearly of the broadcast equipment upon the top and hood of MY BUG !

"blast it ! May you get your just wages for your act, this is unforgiveable !"I saw the expression of dead disdain and disgust he gave me, especially as I pointed my remote starter and car alarm activation gizmo ( sounds a lot better saying that than"remote control car key") and pushed the button.

My car alarm goes"beep-beep-beep"just as a thundering flash of twinkle filled the orbit, the retort shattering many a window up and down the cylinder block as I stand there taking in the view before me…

The weatherman standing, smoldering microphone in his manus, charred clothing hanging from his frame, while his optic are alight in staring threat as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering mass of twisted metal and spare part parts, dupe of the intense serial publication of lightning bolt that happen to hit at that minute.

"blast, I guess I forgot to turn off the machine destruct shift for my…"I had to smile as the weather forecaster howled in pure terror and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a longsighted base on balls home in the rain, which is growing in saturation 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 calendar month now.

Turning back to the door, I reached for the key again, and wonder again about Miss Jasmine and the grand old sap I have been played for…

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

She just stood in front of me trying to justify for being late while gasping for breath, the surgical gown straining to keep intact as her bosom heaved in and out at an alarming pace. It seems the car bringing her back to the shop class had broken down and she literally ran to the store, trying to get back here in time. Mind you, the nightgown clingstone to her torso like a second skin, soaked through and through by the rainwater, allowing her heaving bosom to be seen in full detail, including those tit at stark attention, keeping my heart locked on them for some time.

Holding the door clear for her and flicking on the lights I told her I would be within shortly.

Jasmine smiled at me, a coy aspect on her eyes, backtalk spread in a smiling as her tongue 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 posterior as she headed for the changing room.

A band of Marines and their police sergeant, out jogging in the rain, completely uncaring for this fierce storm passed by and looked briefly at misfire Jasmine with smiling and a nimble succession of nods ; their sergeant-at-law declaring to the humankind"Men, now you know one reason we serve on the edge of freedom ; to countenance such a lucky couple to make fun creating the next propagation of Marines…'

I shook my head in disbelief and started to mistreat forward, amused by their display of sense of humor ; only to have the canopy over the room access tear open and dump congius of absolutely ice cold rain water down upon me.

How much more craziness is going to pass tonight ?

======
Once inside I found her by my desk, standing ever so patiently, as I had forgotten to collapse her the key to the changing room. I did make do to find a body 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, melodic tattle as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the drivel I need to dispense with tomorrow first light. I put it in the usual class of"pain-in-the-tush debris"to the ‘ I-really-don't-need-this-stress-in-my-life-junk"and the ever present"OH-NO-IT'S-THE-IRS junk."I even took the time to checker my e-mails and saw nothing of grandness among them : just the common ill about my VW hemipteran constantly drawing lightning down into the arena and an inquiry from the radio station of the locating of their weatherman.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodious part. I have no idea how tenacious Miss Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my line of work. But when I looked up, I almost had a heart attack on the spot. My brainiac melted away, bones became mush and brawn just sagged in the revelation before me.

She had placed the sozzled gown off to one side of my desk, and next to that is her own plain gown she had on earlier this day. Her purse was on that gown, and atop it laid her in high spirits heels and undergarment. Those sheer E. B. White stockings were the solitary thing else on as she stood there, smiling, workforce on her pelvis and one leg slightly crossed in front of the other.

Oh my stars !

All I could do was gaze upon her with admiration as I fought to realize control over my body.

Her coppery buttock shined in the light, enhanced by the smile of her lips, those blue optic dancing with a raw miscellany of bodily fluid and awakened desire. Her raven hair hung across those fine shoulders, ending just above the distich of breast so large and fine that any man would be proud to choke between them with a deluxe old grin of delight on his face.

Her early hand lay on her hip, legs set to support her mannerism as a simulation for a exposure shoot would acquire ; the Lapp pose that allowed me a fully frontal view of her bared muliebrity !

My meat went to pounding so fast I had to marvel if those earthquake measuring machines were registering the event. I imagined the entire pulley-block must be slowly shaking to objet d'art, so unvoiced and fasting was it pounding away.

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

I started croaking like a bullfrog, still unable to believe this was going on right wing 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 suspiration of fill-in ; probably figured I was going to die right on the spot or something similar.

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

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

I can hardly wait to encounter out…

She came over to the back 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 wooden leg shifted slightly, bending into the air at the knees as I got a brighten view of her naked womanhood. She scissored her wooden leg once, twice, and then a thirdly time before rolling over onto her back, grasping her genu to embrace with her hands.

Her giggle drew my gaze up to her face, to see her glimmering smile, and a stunt man wink to me.

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

With one digit she motioned for me to come up closer.

I could see her tit hanging down, moving ever so slightly with each legal action she undertook ; even swirling her question around to transport whisker back over her shoulders made them bounce and jiggle, holding my interest like a vice around a pipe.

I gave out a little squeaking phone and scooted my chairperson closer to her.

Jasmine moved one hand upward, her fingerbreadth gently touching my cheek, moving in a inbound spiral only to overthrow direction and repeat the blueprint twice more, drawing a heat up flush to my face ; my breath was beginning to sound like a unwrap bellow, raspy and heated, as the ardour of desire stoked higher and high-pitched in my body.

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

The other, the parcel gradually gaining ground ; said to let it take place and love the ride !

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my Chin and jaw, then my mouth in repeated circles 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 journeying continued along my nose and across my forehead, then covering my ear.

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


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

Her buss was one of pure fire and lightning ; surging across each and every fiber of my torso. I could find the sweat beginning to appear on my skin, my manhood rising in full moon to the moment, as on my sass the salty taste of her own flowed and measured, bringing a refined taste sensation that assorted with the strawberry flavored lipstick she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my world collapse in on it, Eden has been achieved ! ! !

Then she planted that fiery, cacoethes filled, electrifying second kiss, followed by a third gear, and even a fourthly ; 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 grand breasts, shortly to stroke and work so gently the nipple and material body wherever I could arrive at. They felt so soft, warm and wondrous to my touch ; her eye closed, cervix arching slightly as she braced her hands - one on the desk, the former moving from my neck opening to my shoulder.

I heard a diminished, contented suspiration pass her lips.

I started to snog her neck, taking swell delight in the sense of taste of her skin ; a mixture of aroma arising of her perfume and personal flavour ; along with that from her to begin with dinner - fine steak with sauce, barbecued veggies, and the ripe odor of trefoil and vinegar from a side dishful of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to begin kissing my neck with such force I imagined there would be lip Marks well into the side by side calendar month. I could feel the passion of her quickening breath, the fires edifice in her dead body from the aid given to her soundbox and breast.

Once again she turned back to my desk, leaning back until one leg was moving along the leg of my pant ; 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 facial expression on her side, while her eye danced with abandonment of all control over her burning at the stake passion.

When her base wound up stroking my manhood I thought I would erupt into fire. It was all that I could do to go on my manhood from pushing over the edge and hitting my release ; I did not require this fun to end any clip soon.

That crazy fire of her middle redoubled, and redoubled again ; I knew then and there I was doomed, and to be reliable, I did not care.

Bracing on one arm, she brought her other script to her lip, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the fingers ; and then playfully sucking away as her eyes and smile enticed me into their profundity. Then her hand commenced to displace down her consistency, teasing circuit on her chest of drawers ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small circles and volute she executes, the mamilla firmly at care and then some. She brings each one up to her lip, sucking and licking them gently, oculus locked upon me with a message that the fun was about to achieve a new level of loudness.

I put my hands on her one leg, gently running them over the house 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 efforts, seeking each spot that would cause a shivering, quivering or giggle deriving bit of sensation.

I moved my chair in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her peg up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to kiss her encourage and further upwards toward her pelvis. She lay back, eyes closing once again as I drew closer to her womanhood ; intimation becoming ruffle with soft cooing and mouse like squeaks, lips being gnawed on as desires mixed and flowed, hands covering her mouth as the fingers made balmy balls, only to give up and tighten again mo later.

I commenced to gently bumble soft puffs of air onto her thighs, alternating side to side, generating low rippling of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within reach of her most private of area, one pouffe followed another, causing her to squirm and dance about while a fount of giggle and squeals erupted past her lips ; work force covering up the growing bloom on her glistening skin.

When my tongue slid within those wizard profundity, savoring the sense of taste of flesh and smorgasbord of textures, the heat of her body and scents mixing one into another with the stride of a coursing river, her articulatio coxae swayed about, back arching to the Eden and her hands flying down to snap up my head, firmly holding me in place.

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

For a moment I could see my gravestone, engraved upon its marble airfoil the words :

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

As my ministrations reached the hidden region oceanic abyss within, that one fix bringing upper limit pleasance to all women, she thrust one leg straight out against the unit of ledge I use for record storage ; it promptly collapsed into a spate of wreckage with a clash both of us ignored.

to a greater extent and more my exploration and ministration flowed into a serial publication of letter stylus across the alphabet and varying in amphetamine and force ; I just wanted now and always to get out every apothecaries' ounce of wonder and passion I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving sobriety briefly in statement of my destiny until the storey rushed up to smack solidly into my body ; the chair rolled with some military force backwards, bouncing off the wall and into a nearby cloths single-foot, which promptly toppled over into another, and a chemical 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, looking at the utter devastation, then back to her, she giggled and covered her back talk 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 moment not saying anything. I finally climbed up, figuring the mood was done for - the destruction of a shop can have that effect on a nighttime of confidant activeness between two people…

"well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the adjacent lyric out of my mouth other than as a mixing of squeals and peals as she moved up good next to me, one manus pressing the pocket-sized of my back while the other slid down my britches, and commenced to knead my manhood along its full orbit ( with the smallish size that is of course not saying much ).

I just looked at her with a sheepish grin on my face as her succour threatened to air me into instant and sodding meltdown.

Of their own agreement, my pants had sauntered downward, until they fell away to puddle around my articulatio talocruralis.

She giggled and looked into my eyes, her own showing laugh and passion commixture in their depths.

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

Her hands came back to continue their joyous ministration of my manhood, each movement sending a serial publication of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying ace into my brain. My eyes felt like they would track over to the other socket and continue right out of my ears, which had to throw smoke bellowing out in columns for anyone to reek and see.

It took every bit of control I had left to save from hitting my expiration then and there ; especially when those soft brim closed about it, the warmth of her mouthpiece adding more and more to my own as she teased away upon it. I heard and felt my breathing becoming mystifying and faster, the strait of a bellows being driven by a windstorm would vocalise tame in equivalence !

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

The way felt like it was spinning round and bout, the speech sound of the rainwater and retorts of lightning shaking and quaking the building ; light source flickering on and off with each close strike.

I felt like she was drawing what remained of my mentality out of me ; one prison cell and neuron at a time.

relocation by move, instant by moment she kept me rightfield on the boundary, until she sensed I could harbor back no more and quickly lay over the desk on her stomach.

With no hesitancy I slid my humanness deep into her body, feeling the firm holds of her musculus, the warmness of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to make the culmination lastly as long as possible for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a stage was hit in which my body started to shake and palpitate, the entire wafture of pleasure reaching new heights.

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

She shouted something in her native spoken communication of Hindi, then again in another - I assumed screams of pleasure and intense passionate opinion that must be flowing through her at that moment.

Then she shouted out to me, tatty and clear :

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

Faster and loyal I continued pumping away, until the demarcation was crossed and a scream of primaeval passionateness went roaring from my lips…

okay it was more like a howler of an aeroplane crossed with a die down washer.

You get the idea…

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

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

Jasmine hit her firing at the same twinkling as my own, her eubstance having shook with such effect and excitement that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a quick grab by me, weaponry around her waist and chest kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a smiling of contentment and admiration on her face. For a bit her gaze went downward to her thigh, which I saw had a trace of my life semen mix with her acquittance flowing downward.

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

I saw the clear vexation in her eyes, the expectation of some horrific amount, or some form of ebullition on my part.

"I don't know ; my insurance should get over most of it, just going to fill a few Clarence Shepard Day Jr. to get everything back in one piece before I can open again. All of that byplay being lost will be a problem with my bills coming due in the next week or so,"I had to excite my head as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me make a quick call…"she went to her pocketbook and stood there, debating with someone on the other end of her cell headphone ; mind you she was still in her birthday suit, so I got a marvelous display 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 encompass everything that needs fixing and your business losses ; her secretarial assistant Miss Claude Shannon will be here in the morn to produce an initial approximation with you."

"Where does your mother get that kind of money from ?"Was she truly the daughter of a Cosa Nostra Godfather ? Or yet worse, A Mafia 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 consume it be the usual - cement place and chain of mountains, then a legal brief car ride to the piers and into the ocean I go…

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

Many, many times regretful ! Her mother is a diplomat at the UN of all affair ! ! !

I looked at the door, expecting her bodyguard or assassins dispatched by her mother to come in and sweep her away to safety, while reducing me and my shop to a great deal of smoldering spunk after introducing me to all personal manner of delicious torture to pernicious and outrageous to contemplate…

Her gentle, bubbling laugh snapped me back to the here and now. Obviously she gets my kind of response with a lot of pattern people."Mr. Phillips my female parent does not have people ‘ taken caution of'like in those demented pic you Americans love so a great deal ; too mussy. I stay out of that stuff when I can, I prefer the American way of having fun - tonight I went to an ‘ old fashion debauch of 1969'and thoroughly enjoyed myself."

"Oh and Mr. Phillip's I want to thank you for reading that Word of God on your desk ; it's not the upright fiction in the world I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her grin was one of true mischief, which let me know how horrendous the book really reads.

"Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my theatrical role, I will not only tell my admirer to descend here for the best night-robe around ; I will arrive by each night and bed you, for as long as you want, as many metre each night that you want, and you can cum inside me. How does that go Mr. Phillip's ?"she asked.

I agreed to it, and as she got dressed, preparing to head base for the night ; she mentioned in exit that she will have some friends with her the next evening for our"fun"after the store closes. I wondered if the edifice would even survive ; let alone be standing if another such night is held in the place…of line it would be fun to encounter out ! ! !


( fin. )