“ The heat wafture shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the Sand in an merciless display of Mother Nature's authority. My Amerind Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the trumpet could be heard, the horns signaling the start of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall miss my love Princess Jasmine, the satiny smooth texture of her fair peel, and the lips that pulsate with fiery bliss whenever they so, so gently press against my cheek. Oh how I can still palpate the heat of her breath upon my skin, the gentle pushover coming from the smiling sass and her nose…

Then in an blink of an eye to the here and now I suddenly returned, calling out social club to the handful of my men who stood at the ready behind the paries crenellation ; each one held the feel of a man who knows that before the day is done, they will place upright in judicial decision before He who watches over all of us on earth.

As the enemy scout group closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our destruction, many bearing siege ravel to scale the bulwark, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few bearing brand or longsighted knives. In an wink 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, fervor, fire, for your very aliveness and for God and Billie Jean Moffitt King flame FOR EFFECT this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a cacophony of racket and dope as steel shooter flowed out tearing asunder our enemies, 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 rich rich red from the shattered humanity before us ; and soon our own would be mixed in as well.

"scrap well my boys,"the old Colonel, George Frederick Handel, stubborn, dower, gruff and as sociable as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the roar of guess and scale of cannon and howitzer coming into the city."conflict well my boys, and deal yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the last language he ever uttered as he stood there, before the vast, wooden, city gates as an volatile laden cannon ball slammed into them ; torn asunder from their respective wall, they hung in the air for what seemed a eternity of time, before gravity sent them crashing down upon the dear old Colonel.

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

"Oh blood brother,"I just declared with an exasperated sigh, my heart rolling to the promised land at the sheer telephone number of fault in the"actual floor love affair"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a romance between a British Captain of the twenty-fifth Regiment of Foot, the esteemed"top executive's Own Borderers,"and his lady love, a straight princess from Republic of India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the Bible with a flashy elasticity of my hand, debating for a curtly time of consigning it to either the trash can or saving it for kindling at the following cookout I have…which is about the solitary thing it's fit for.

There is one thing I have to say about owning and running your own store, in this guinea pig I rent clothing, tuxedos, gowns and all the hooey that goes along with them. This is in improver to being a small payload store with a compass of articles from the fixture, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still judder my principal each meter I gaze upon the suit of Roman armor on the mannequin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own little portion of the world, the fantastic, and hopefully, to be notable one of these days,"Phillip's Fabulous Fashions,"run by, of course, Phillip ( me ). It's a nice, little, rundown and beaten up construction, with a atomic number 10 signboard outside that works nigh of the time ; though I have to admit, that little cellular phone column on the roof is a bit of an bother, as every calendar week or two, when a storm comes in, it gets hit by a bolt or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of problems with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily tell the scene you are envisioning, a lone man, boring and norm in his own right field, dealing with a boring store, and boring customers, whose routine is the same day in and day out. A very simple, steady, and routine job and life-time, in which there is only one common denominator the owner has to address with :

idea CRUSHING tedium ! ! !

All too dead on target for the virtually theatrical role, yet once in a expectant while, as with last dark, something comes along and turns my piffling boring Earth on its head, and lifetime is then never the same…as last-place night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

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


======
I was reading my later language book to trying to instruct Hindi ; both invertebrate foot propped up on the desk, leaning too far back in the chair and completely oblivious to what was going on in the store. It took some clip for my brain to register the fact that, after several hr of inactivity, a customer has come into the shop ; clearly indicated by the diffuse, clear-cut ding-ding-ding of the warning device on the door.

The make, distinct and coherent clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of high heels, did not fully register as they closed on my position. The soft, curved and quite attentive shadow of my customer, blocking part of the command processing overhead lighting, still had not penetrated the depths of my stone dense cerebral matter.

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

Looking over the sharpness of my book I was greeted by a plenty that took my breather away !

She could accept been a living goddess who deigned to deign unto the earthly concern and walk among someone. Oh for some reasons the nirvana have become most king to me this evening ; or the doors to the profundity of Pluto have opened, and my eternal doom and damnation is fully at paw. Only a being from another man or realism could compare to this aspect of living beauty, a true avatar on earth, which deems me worthy for a unornamented mo of her attention…

Just about five and a half groundwork in superlative, lithe and curved in all the right office, she stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding a hanger on which hung one of the gowns for renting. The sheer ravisher of her blasphemous eyes, coppery skin and pearly tooth was accentuated by the fine, soft, silken black hair that seemed to trip the light fantastic with aliveness of its own.

She was clad in a simple, cream colored, spaghetti strap dress, the gentle trim of floral radiation pattern in deep blue and vibrant reds ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and knees. It clung to her body like a s layer of skin, showing off each sensuous contour of her flowing womanly cast, the nipples of her breasts were seeable through the material, which caused me to fixate upon them a bit too long…

"excuse me sir, but, may I try this gown on…"she bent down a bit as the nightdress shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a declension position of her partially revealed breasts…my eyes, then head, and the rest of my body moved to keep that view in sight, following along like one hooked upon a line by the sweetener of choice, knowing your own doomsday is at hand…

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

…until I finally tipped too far in the chair, crashing to the level when my date with gravity committed me to a meeting with the hard concrete level ; so swiftly did this occur that the ma'am before me only had a instant to cross-file the fact, a soft, musical gasp passing her brim as her free hired man shot up to report it, eyes wide in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the floor, reaching my hands up to grasp the desk's boundary. So far I am not making much of a firstly impression with the youth noblewoman ; and now I need to get back to a proper state of thinker and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my grip on the desk only brought a pile of stacked book of account by the border crashing down with full-of-the-moon, legal brief, and brutal sounding encroachment upon my concrete dense head.

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

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

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

She handed it to me so I could tick off the tag number 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 any excuse to be just a bit closer to her presence.

As for the gown she has selected ?

It is a wonderful, strapless and shoulderless gown of shimmering emerald green motley with sapphire blueness, with yarn of aureate flowers, white razz and flatware cloud woven into the framework. I could just guess what it would look like on her, and wound up gulping for a second so I could breathe once again.

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

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

All I could guess of at this second is how lots of an superfluity I must be to the world ; here she is, a rare gem of the world in my workshop, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a corner of a railyard by her bodyguards, then tied to a Tree or post as one stands off to the side declaring for his companions to get their artillery ready…

Then with a wildcat glimmer in his expression, eyes glowing from behind darken sunglasses, he declares to them in turn,"Aim low gentleman's gentleman, his humanness first and bring 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 auricle kept rail of all speech sound, while my intellect generated all fashion of ghostly commandos entering, hopping like silent death around the racks and stands of garments toward me with fleet dying in their hands, their mission to rescue the madam from the ‘ severe shop owner who dared to wait on her eternal beauty…"

Key in hand, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such saucy force that I went head over heals, rolling across its open, and landing on the other position upon my invertebrate foot. Her piano gasp and laugh dancing in those oculus continued when I gave a rebuff, clumsy and completely inapt bow with a formula of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One affair I can say about myself is that when I make a accomplished fool of self in any situation, I do it in striking style and flashing. As they say, if you're going to mess up something, do it completely and make it worth the coming embarrassment.

"Here is your key Miss…ah, oh dearest ; my brain 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 and dignified composure I set out for the street corner of the store, a sheer tenacious 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 call 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 mellifluous perfume she wears ; something kindred to cinnamon and honey mixed with rose flower petal. I followed her front into the changing room, especially noticing the gentle swaying of her pelvic girdle and the spring of her bottom…until she turned to come together the door and gave me a coy smile with a wink.

Reaching out to stabilize myself on a cloth rack, stunned by this bit of flirt on her part, I missed and once again got introduced to the mulct conception of gravity and the impact upon the trading floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this specific fall ; however, the encroachment did bounce the cloths stand just enough to cause it to return over upon me, and the one just across the gangway from it, and the batch of books upon each one as well…

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

Thankfully being of distinctly manful heritage, I have inherited the traditional, hard boned, concrete dense head to the highest degree of my antecedent possessed. So it comes in quite handy, such as the crashing of cloths rack and rule book onto said head, in preventing my premature extinction from this lifetime.

As I pulled myself out from the carnage of habiliment and books I heard the easy chortle of Miss Jasmine, who looked out from the changing elbow room ; a smile of amusement and deviltry on her aspect, eyes 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 shank by the barest of inactive.

Just looking upon those out of sight riches beneath her arm, the trend of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly advance and fall like a graceful dancer practicing a well known routine for warm up, made my brain flash lamp into instant steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the wearable and books. Right now, this was the lone way I could keep open my intellect off of her ; and the bulging reply my amatory desires have caused, threatening to rupture 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 physical structure. I mean, what do you look, I'm a guy, and a nerdish oddball as well…

As I passed the changing way, the door was partially opened, and revealed a sight that would birth turned any man into wink ashes as the flames of lust consumed him utterly in a heartbeat…

She had one ft raised onto the sitting chairperson each changing elbow room has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer white lacing ; decorated in the patterns of efflorescence, ivy vines and singing fowl in flight. It accentuated the coppery tone of her skin, hugging the curves of her honed muscles, sloping like a glove over her animal foot and toes.
in by inch she moved it steadily up her favourable legs, causing me to hold in in position from the wonderment of her every motion, beaut and beau ideal combining womanly gracility and hide out military capability deep underneath if one bothered to look past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a wonder ; a nerds dream come true is here before me and I just stand there like a perfect moron. I never got around to installing those video security tv camera in the changing suite as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

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

======
Her cause with the stocking extend upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to maintain moving, but my brain refused to let my foot go forward, backward, or any which way ; same for my head and eyes, the gray material between my ears kept screaming"crusade alarm ! exigency nullification ORDERED ! keep female IN vision ! AT ALL price dungeon FEMALE IN visual sense"

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

As it turned out, miss Jasmine was fully cognizant of my mien ; 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 crimp of her knee, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating grin of her enlightening smile. She gave her head a slight shake, one mixing mirth and hidden meaning as her hair danced around her impertinence and chin, then flowed like fine silk that caressed the golden grain of her tegument as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one side, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously refined guided journey up the rest of her leg. Miss Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few times, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to swirl animal patterns upon the stockings textile, images of hearts and lace beings, the symbolization of old for erotica and hump expressed in the tacit language of vamp and seduction.

But those eyes, when they swept up to fill mine, the profundity of them glimmered as twin universes unfolding to limitless astuteness ; proportion of sensualness, sexuality, and the rawest of cardinal fiery feminine forces on video display to anyone wishing to dare and ill-use over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, front drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering pot of her breasts hung full and innocent for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive draft, its ring carrying across the storehouse and drawing a delicate, red-hot giggle from her that sent the two wondrous knoll of undefined pleasure to bouncing around. The teat were fully erect, demanding that I close my backtalk, unlock my Einstein and get in there to set about giving the absolute terminus ad quem of supportable cacoethes to girl Jasmine ; and to keep until she is screaming from the batch upside, or I die from sheer exertion during the effort.

My blood was boiling with stricken desire, my manhood at the rank limits of its strained movement ; the roar that filled my nous demanded that I hurry on in an effort to seduce her and consummate a relationship rightfulness then and there.

I could envisage that at any moment the attack alarms and smoke sensor would go off ; as I was consumed on the spot in organic structure, idea and mortal from the tsunamis of primordial lust and heat crashing and surging over my consistency and into the primordial soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the scene of the fire department captain explaining to his top dog :"He just erupted into flame and took out xv metropolis blocks in the process ; though Miss Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

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

She turned slightly one to a greater extent time and then hang over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silky bleak laced material here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one localisation I know that drives women into the heights of rapturous bliss and the depths of enlightenment when pleasured just right by someone…and then the material shifted just enough, deliberately done on her contribution, to allow me to behold the mysterious depths of her womanhood.

She stood up to the demarcation of her rattling build ; stretching her handwriting high into the air, pulling the musculus of her abdominal cavity taunting to designate the flawless perfection of each one in turn. Then with one arm behind her back, the other behind her neck, she altered her pose many sentence over, shifting metrical foot to animal foot, English to side, all with the grace of a dancer in terminated control condition of her entire being.

My gaze kept shifting between her and the musing in the mirror ; my mind in desperate overload as it kept demanding to a greater extent and more input from all of my skunk ; with each pose, every subtle and downright change in posture and display of swan like Grace in motion, the images infused into my memory, branded there for all of meter to come.

putt both of her hands behind her neck opening, turning her bureau slightly to one side of meat, she looked upon me and gave off a grand grin that would transport a million millions of men racing to carry forth her every deed, and die glad to have made such an effort.

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

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

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

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

Can a man possibly make more of a sap of himself than doing that ?

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very kind of you to say so ; not very many would give such an honorable, from the heart type of compliment. most of the men and women I deal with in the line world are as ruthless and relentless as a swarm of vipers in the midst of a violent death frenzy,"she said.

"Vipers in a putting to death delirium ?"I softly inquired of from Miss Jasmine.

She just nodded, not the nod of one trying to restrain another ; nor that of dissuading a man from paying any tending to her in routine. Just the nod of one hanker acquainted with danger on a turgid and much Thomas More deadly graduated table than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My draught probably sent shockwaves across the integral city ; causing heads to release in admiration, economise for a smattering who would experience knowing looking on their faces, approaching the doorway of my store at any moment, hands hidden in their trench coats…

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

Would it be a hold out, not so favorable,"Evening comrade"from the ‘ men in black'of the KGB just before they use the silenced side arm to fill me full phase of the moon of hole and sack up my shop ? Or the ever efficient, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by Miss Jasmine's Godfather shielder, to"give Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the following turning of the inflammation switch, erupts into a testicle of fire and million fragments of metallic element tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her loftiness enigma overhaul, the infamous, double-oh's, who would do me in via a envenom dog, cyanide in the sodium carbonate, exploding fountain pen. Oh I could see the close one all too well in my pip dream of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the phone, and need to require a content down, I tell the soul on the other end,"just a moment and I will write this down,"I click the pen, and the explosion takes out the entire workshop and all for ten blocks around while the wheeler dealer calmly tells the early company on the phone"I am sorry, it appears your birdcall has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between parted fingers, seeing the soft fiddling pout on her cheek while she spoke of these early dishonest people. It gave me the additional opinion that they saw her as one of three matter : true rival due to her lulu, a one time conquest in bed or a potential playmate and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to get a line they treat you that way ; hopefully this gown will change their creative thinker, not to refer turn a few school principal on someone as wonderful as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

Of course, I suddenly thought, she could be an outside assassinator and agent…

She smiled a smile like the richest of bee's honey, teasingly running her clapper along her lips as she looked down at my humanness. The world-class glimmering trail of sweat were commencing their journeying down my forehead, my buttock flushing from panic 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 shortly,"she said as the door closed in its entirety.

"Your welcome Miss Jasmine, More than welcome,"I headed back to my desk, wondering just how much trouble I have stumbled into tonight ; and listened to her singing a soft, haunting melodic line in the language of India, beautiful as a dream and as longing as a tale told…

The very book I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the level of the British police captain of the twenty-fifth Regiment of foundation, the esteem"King's Own Borderers,"who in the yr 1869, made his net sales booth in the comeupance and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to wonder, did she read the Holy Writ, watch a genuine story the book is based upon…or is she a ghostwriter of some form maybe that of the farseeing lost Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any more speculation had to wait as I walked into the recession of my desk, the level jutting out in the shape of a Belgian griffon delivering the total, unyielding force of Sir Henry Joseph Wood directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the background, mewling like a kitten as my eyes crossed over.

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



*********************
rear at my desk I just fidgeted with the paperwork, all of it done long ago as I waited for Jasmine to come into view. I hoped that she would want to rent the gown and respective others, maybe even to become a unwavering customer for the shop.

Although that night-robe she has selected would hug her figure so tightly that one faulty movement would sunder it to the fine point ; a pile any man and many women would love to the fullest !

Oh how I could see it happening…

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

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

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

Then one whole step termination in the sudden tearing audio of cloth strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the material tears away from her body, from one side to the other, leaving her momentarily in shock and disbelief at the treachery it displayed ; leaving her tit fully exposed, her OK hourglass figure shown to the world, 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 at the elbow, the other one playing in her hair as she asks of me…

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

I snapped out of my daydream to see Jasmine standing in figurehead of the desk ; bent forward to enable a high-minded old view of her partially covered bosom.

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

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

My bosom felt like it would instantly explode as my body becomes a mickle of smoldering ashes as a flash fire sweeps me away into the afterlife.

Heavens above that robe matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a indorse skin from her bosom to the middle of her thighs. How it kept from going into instant loser of the material I could not see, as there should be no room for any movement at all, let alone the soft and steady external respiration she does, letting her heart rise and fall in such a way as to exact all men's attention instantly.

putting her mitt on hips, arms bent at the cubital joint, she did a series of after part and half bout for me to see the total outfit. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, bent at the knee, upon its surface, allowing me to see the hem of the gown contribute 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 touched my brass with her give up hand, swirling the finger tips in slow traffic circle and teasing spirals.

I could smell her perfume, the judicious mixture of body lotion and shampoo for her pilus swirling into the scents of the shop and the other clothing ; along with the leather backing of my old billet chair.

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

I finally managed to get my mouth to colligate with my brainpower and speak :

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

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

The robe was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

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

It's a goodness affair I do sustain a few exercise set of supererogatory vesture of my own here at the shop, including new underwear.


*************************
As it turned out, not as excellent as I had hoped ; for as it has become common for me, old Murphy and his most ill-famed of police force came nursing home to roost.

Jasmine stood there, a pout of disappointment on her look, eyes downcast as she understood her available fund were just shy of the deposit and lease fees for the gown.

The difference was very belittled, only a few dollars, and I did not want to miss a rental or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her heart on that one gown, and I figured if I cut some morass, it would improve the odds of her becoming a repetition customer.

"young woman Jasmine I'll cut you a deal this time ; I will wave the bank deposit for this one metre only,"she looked at me with a expression of pleasure and surprise, all but dancing around while clapping her hands in excitement.

"Just remember, that the night-robe has to be back tonight ; by closing time ; and maybe we could…"I just stopped, amazed that I nearly asked her out on a engagement !

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

"Maybe we could own 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 rage of womanly anger, one I so rightfully deserve for such a statement.

Her hands flew up to cover her mouthpiece, which just hung open in a silent, shocked pant of astonishment from my perfectly bold and stupid query. Any present moment now she will either storm out of the shop class or slap me so hard I will be able to see over my back for the rest of my life…which could get a few problems with walking forward…

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

"Of course you can,"I said.

She pulled the hard cash for the surgical gown's rental out of her pocketbook and bent over the desk to hand it to me, leaning in so confining that she suddenly gave me a peck on the cheek followed by a smile.

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

She smiled, turned in a dainty half circle on one toe, and strolled out of the store ; I watched her every step and flow of her torso until I crashed over the desk for the indorse time this day…not landing on my feet, but into a barrel roll that ended in a wrack of cloths.

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

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


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

The weatherman kept describing it with flavor :"This violent storm is to be one so muscular that it will rival that of the tragedy of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the intact city will be destroyed. Flooding tens of groundwork rich will hap in the first few minutes ; while edifice will be burned by searing arcs of destructive lightning ; howling winds that will fill you with the unspeakable cry of a banshee on the moors before they pick you up and fling you miles into the air for a bone smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the fourth time tonight as I turned the lights off, exit the shop and ferment around to lock the door, the storm brews high gear overhead with the rumbling counter of thunder echoing across the city man made canyons of blade and concrete. Flashes of light come from the lamp posts as the barest of light they provide flicker on and off, the brighter ostentation of lightning mixing with the first falling of pelting from the heavens to mold an eerie glow across the land between times of darkness.

For some intellect 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 reckon at, just an old, very outfox up VW Bug, but its mine…and right following to it is that dingbat weatherman broadcasting live on outside the radio station ( also across the street where my car is ).

He goes on and on and on about"…being live in the philia of the cataclysm of the century ; the winds are so ferocious that I can barely take heed myself think…'

Of row he is calmly sipping away on a cup of umber between his ‘ desperate, danger filled broadcasts in the heart of the storm.'I just shake my head at the sheer hypocrisy and arrogance of such a man ; not to bring up the fact he has most of the broadcast equipment upon the top and hood of MY BUG !

"Blast it ! May you get your just advantage for your act, this is unforgiveable !"I saw the look of utter disdain and disgust he gave me, especially as I pointed my outside appetizer and car dismay activation gizmo ( 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 trice of light filled the surface area, the riposte shattering many a window up and down the block as I stand there taking in the survey before me…

The weatherman standing, smoldering microphone in his hired man, charred article of clothing hanging from his frame, while his eyes are alight in pure terror as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering mass of turn metal and spare office, dupe of the intense series of lightning bolts that happen to hit at that mo.

"Blast, I guess I forgot to turn off the auto destruct switch for my…"I had to smile as the weatherman howled in stark terror and ran off down the street. Of course of study for me, now I face a long walk nursing home in the rainwater, which is growing in intensity and hope I can explicate to the insurance companionship of how another car went up in smoke due to a lightning strike…six in one month now.

turning back to the door, I reached for the key again, and marvel again about Miss Jasmine and the high-flown old fool I have been played for…

Key in the threshold lock, I prepared to bend it when I heard a feminine voice shouting out for me to declare on and the click-click-click-click of high bounder closing as rapidly as their wearer could.

She just stood in front of me trying to apologize for being late while gasping for intimation, the nightdress 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 had broken down and she literally ran to the store, trying to get back here in time. Mind you, the gown clings to her eubstance like a back skin, soaked through and through by the rainwater, allowing her heaving heart to be seen in replete detail, including those nipples at arrant attention, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

Holding the threshold open for her and flicking on the Christ Within I told her I would be inside shortly.

Jasmine smiled at me, a coy tone on her heart, lips spread in a smile as her tongue playfully licked and swirled over one of her fingers held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her coxa especially very well, keeping my aid fixed on her posterior as she headed for the changing room.

A striation of Marine and their sergeant, out jogging in the rain, completely uncaring for this fierce storm passed by and looked briefly at miss Jasmine with smiling and a quickly succession of nods ; their Sergeant declaring to the world"Men, now you know one reason we serve on the edge of freedom ; to reserve such a lucky couple to birth fun creating the next generation of Marines…'

I shook my principal in disbelief and started to step forward, amused by their display of humor ; only to get the canopy over the door split open and garbage dump gallons of utterly ice cold rainfall urine down upon me.

How much More craziness is going to occur tonight ?

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

I just sat at my desk, listening to her cushy, melodious singing as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the scraps I need to deal with tomorrow morning. I put it in the usual class of"pain-in-the-tush rubble"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 go over my netmail and saw zero of grandness among them : just the usual ailment about my VW bugs constantly drawing lightning down into the orbit and an inquiry from the radio station of the location of their weather forecaster.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodious vox. I have no thought how foresightful Miss Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my business. But when I looked up, I almost had a core attack on the berth. My brain melted away, bones became treacle and brawniness just sagged in the revelation before me.

She had placed the hook nightdress off to one slope of my desk, and following to that is her own plain gown she had on earlier this day. Her purse was on that gown, and atop it laid her eminent heels and unmentionable. Those gossamer Andrew Dickson White stockings were the only thing else on as she stood there, smiling, hands on her hips and one leg slightly crossed in front of the other.

Oh my principal !

All I could do was gaze upon her with wonderment as I fought to pull ahead mastery over my body.

Her coppery impudence shined in the luminance, enhanced by the smile of her brim, those blue eyes dancing with a raw mixture of wit and awakened desire. Her raven whisker hung across those mulct shoulders, ending just above the couplet of breasts so large and fine that any man would be proud to strangle between them with a yard old grin of delight on his face.

Her former bridge player lay on her hip, legs set to support her affectation as a model for a photo shoot would put on ; the same airs that allowed me a full moon frontal view of her bared woman !

My heart went to pounding so fast I had to wonder if those earthquake measuring machines were registering the case. I imagined the integral block must be slowly shaking to pieces, so arduous and fast was it pounding away.

"Do you like Mr. Phillip's ?"she teasingly asked, licking her lip 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 imbecile extraordinaire.

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

I just nodded my school principal yes, and she breathed a sigh of relief ; probably figured I was going to die right on the place or something similar.

"You said you wanted to have some fun, so that is what I am going to do ; a deal is a good deal after all,"she said to me. I just could not believe this is happening. Here it is, late in the evening, a furious storm raging outside and I am here with a lady that most men could only stargaze of having nearby, let alone having anything occurring between them !

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

I can hardly wait to find out…

She came over to the back of my desk, eased down across it on her stomach and looked back over her shoulder joint at me with the braggy grin I have ever seen on a lady. Her legs shifted slightly, bending into the air at the knees as I got a clearly position of her naked womanhood. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a 3rd time before rolling over onto her back, grasping her knees to embrace with her hands.

Her giggle drew my gaze up to her face, to see her glimmering smile, and a two-base hit instant to me.

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

With one digit she motioned for me to come closer.

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

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

Jasmine moved one hand upward, her fingers gently touching my buttock, moving in a inbound whorl only to reverse counseling and reprise the pattern twice more, drawing a het flush to my face ; my breather was beginning to vocalize like a broken bellows, raspy and heated, as the flack of desire stoked higher and higher in my body.

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

The other, the portion gradually gaining terra firma ; said to let it bump and delight the drive !

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my chin and jaw, then my lips in recurrent rotary with a teasing probe of my natural language. 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 brow, then covering my ear.

Each moment of motion set my trunk temperature gamey and gamey ; feeling like my body should go away in a blast of steam that would consume me utterly.


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

Her buss was one of pure fire and lightning ; surging across each and every roughage of my body. I could feel the stew beginning to appear on my tegument, my manhood rising in full to the here and now, as on my sassing the salty taste of her own flowed and measured, bringing a refined perceptiveness that mixed with the strawberry flavored lip rouge she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my mankind collapse in on it, enlightenment has been achieved ! ! !

Then she planted that fiery, passion filled, electrifying second osculation, followed by a third base, and even a fourth ; each one redoubling the intensity of the preceding kiss.

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

Her giggling intensified when my custody reached up and encompassed those wonderful breasts, shortly to stroke and knead so gently the tit and flesh wherever I could achieve. They felt so delicate, warm and wonderful to my touching ; her middle closed, neck arching slightly as she braced her hands - one on the desk, the other moving from my cervix to my shoulder.

I heard a pocket-size, contented sigh pass her lips.

I started to kiss her neck, taking great delight in the gustation of her peel ; a mixture of scents arising of her perfume and personal smells ; along with that from her earlier dinner - fine steak with sauce, grilled veggie, and the good odour of clover and acetum from a face dish of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to begin kissing my neck with such force I imagined there would be lip home run well into the next month. I could feel the lovingness of her quickening breathing space, the blast building in her trunk from the care 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 lips as this happened, puckering and nibbling on them ; as she gave that oh-so-innocent look on her font, while her eyes danced with forsaking of all control over her burning at the stake passion.

When her foot wound up stroking my manhood I thought I would take fire into fire. It was all that I could do to continue my humanness from pushing over the edge and hitting my acquittance ; I did not require this fun to end any time soon.

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

bracing on one arm, she brought her other hand to her sassing, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the fingerbreadth ; and then playfully sucking away as her eyes and smile enticed me into their profoundness. Then her deal commenced to make a motion down her body, teasing circles on her bureau ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small circles and spiral she executes, the nipples firmly at tending and then some. She brings each one up to her lips, sucking and licking them gently, eyes locked upon me with a subject matter that the fun was about to reach a new level of saturation.

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

I moved my chair in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her pegleg up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to osculate her further and further upwards toward her hip. She lay back, eyes closing once again as I drew closer to her womanhood ; breath becoming meld with soft cooing and black eye like narrow escape, sass being gnawed on as desires interracial and flowed, hands covering her mouth as the finger made balmy balls, only to release and tighten again moments later.

I commenced to gently muck up easygoing pouf of air onto her thighs, alternating English to side, generating small ripples of pleasure from her with each one. Finally as I closed within ambit of her most private of arena, one ottoman followed another, causing her to squirm and trip the light fantastic about while a fountain of giggled and squeals erupted past her lips ; hands covering up the growing blush on her glistening skin.

When my lingua slid within those charming depths, savoring the gustatory perception of material body and mixture of textures, the hotness of her body and scents mixing one into another with the pace of a coursing river, her pelvis swayed about, back arching to the vault of heaven and her hands flying down to catch my psyche, firmly holding me in place.

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

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

"He died pleasing a goddess made material body ; at to the lowest degree there was a smile on his face."

As my succor reached the obscure orbit trench within, that one location bringing uttermost pleasure to all woman, she thrust one leg straight out against the social unit of shelves I use for track record storage ; it promptly collapsed into a heap of wreckage with a clang both of us ignored.

More and more my exploration and relief flowed into a serial publication of letter of the alphabet way across the alphabet and varying in speed and force ; I just wanted now and always to get every ounce of wonderment and warmth I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving gravity briefly in command of my lot until the flooring rushed up to reek solidly into my dead body ; the chairperson rolled with some military unit backwards, bouncing off the wall and into a nearby cloth rack, which promptly toppled over into another, and a chain reaction commenced across the store…half the wheel collapsing or toppling over by the time it ended.

As I climbed back up to my human knee, looking at the utter ravaging, then back to her, she giggled and covered her oral cavity 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 end of a shop can have that effect on a night of confidant action between two people…

"Well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the next speech out of my back talk other than as a concoction of squeals and peals as she moved up right next to me, one hand pressing the small of my cover while the other slid down my britches, and commenced to massage my manhood along its full field ( with the smallish size of it that is of course of instruction not saying much ).

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

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

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

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

Her bridge player came back to continue their joyous ministration of my manhood, each movement sending a serial publication of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying sensations into my genius. My center felt like they would cross over to the other socket and continue right out of my ear, which had to bear smoke bellowing out in chromatography column for anyone to reek and see.

It took every bit of controller I had left to keep from hitting my dismission then and there ; especially when those soft back talk closed about it, the warmth of her sassing adding more and more than to my own as she teased away upon it. I heard and felt my breathing becoming deeper and faster, the audio of a holler being driven by a windstorm would vocalize tame in comparison !

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

The room felt like it was spinning one shot and unit of ammunition, the sound of the rain and replication of lightning vibration and quaking the edifice ; visible radiation flickering on and off with each close strike.

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

motility by move, mo by here and now she kept me rightfulness on the border, until she sensed I could carry back no more and quickly lay over the desk on her stomach.

With no hesitation I slid my manhood deep into her dead body, feeling the firm holds of her muscles, the warmth of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to make the completion last as long as possible for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a full stop was hit in which my body started to sway and quake, the full waves of pleasure reaching new heights.

My thunder of cacoethes soon were joined by hers ; as the two of us moved in a calendar method of birth control that grew between us ; not perfect but shut enough.

She shouted something in her native nomenclature of Hindi, then again in another - I assumed scream of joy and intense passionate feelings that must be flowing through her at that moment.

Then she shouted out to me, loud and sort out :

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

Faster and faster I continued pumping away, until the melody was crossed and a thigh-slapper of primordial passion went roaring from my lips…

Okay it was more like a scream of an airplane crossed with a broken down washer.

You get the idea…

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

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

Jasmine hit her release at the Lapplander instant as my own, her consistence having shook with such effect and upheaval that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a promptly grab by me, weapons system around her waist and pectus kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a smile of contentment and wonderment on her face. For a present moment her gaze went downward to her thigh, which I saw had a trace of my life sentence seeded player mixed with her dismissal flowing downward.

"I'm sorry about the store Mr. Phillip's, I did not ever ideate such a good deal could come about from our fun tonight ; how much is this going to be me to get it fixed ?"

I saw the clear vexation in her eyes, the prevision of some hideous amount of money, or some kind of burst on my part.

"I don't know ; my insurance policy should hatch most of it, just going to shoot a few twenty-four hours to get everything back in one spell before I can open again. All of that business being lost will be a problem with my bills coming due in the adjacent workweek or so,"I had to shake my brain as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me form a spry call…"she went to her bag and stood there, debating with individual on the other end of her cell phone ; mind you she was still in her birthday causa, 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 female parent will cover everything that needs fixing and your business enterprise losses ; her secretaire misfire Shannon will be here in the morn to ca-ca an initial estimate with you."

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

Or will the Godmother simply have it be the usual - cement brake shoe and chains, then a brief car ride to the wharfage and into the sea I go…

"Oh I forgot to tell apart you, she is the diplomatic envoy to the UN down the street for India,"she showed me her own diplomatical base on balls that confirmed the storey. I just kept shaking my psyche in skepticism ; it's practically worse than her being the daughter of a Maffia Godmother !

Many, many meter worse ! Her mother is a diplomatist at the UN of all things ! ! !

I looked at the door, expecting her bodyguards or assassin dispatched by her mother to get along in and traverse her away to condom, while reducing me and my workshop to a spate of smoldering kindling after introducing me to all manner of delightful distortion to insidious and hideous to contemplate…

Her gentle, bubbling laugh snapped me back to the here and now. Obviously she gets my kind of reaction with a lot of normal the great unwashed."Mr. Phillips my mother does not have multitude ‘ taken care of'like in those looney moving-picture show you Americans love so much ; too mussy. I stay out of that hooey 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 book on your desk ; it's not the best fiction in the domain I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her smile was one of genuine roguery, which let me know how awful the book really reads.

"Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my portion, I will not only tell my Quaker to come here for the salutary gowns around ; I will come by each nighttime and bed you, for as long as you want, as many times each Nox that you want, and you can cum inside me. How does that sound Mr. Phillip's ?"she asked.

I agreed to it, and as she got dressed, preparing to head home for the night ; she mentioned in passing play that she will have some friends with her the following evening for our"fun"after the shop closes. I wondered if the building would even survive ; let alone be standing if another such dark is held in the place…of course it would be fun to find out ! ! !


( fin. )