“ The warmth Wave shimmered in the length, inexorably rising off the Baroness Dudevant in an merciless showing of mother Nature's authority. My Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the automobile horn could be heard, the saddle horn signaling the beginning of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall pretermit my love Princess Jasmine, the silky suave texture of her reasonable peel, and the backtalk that pulsate with flaming blissfulness whenever they so, so gently pressing against my cheek. Oh how I can still feel the heat of her breath upon my peel, the gentle breeze coming from the smiling rim and her nose…

Then in an instant 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 wall battlement ; each one held the spirit of a man who knows that before the day is done, they will resist in judgment before He who watches over all of us on earth.

As the enemy troops closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our death, many bearing beleaguering ladders to scale the walls, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few posture sword or yearn knives. In an instant I shouted for my men to get ready and to sack at will after the call is given…

Then we waited until the tide swept into range…

"fervour, fire, fire, for your very animation and for God and Rex FIRE FOR consequence this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a cacophony of dissonance and smoke as steel pellet flowed out tearing asunder our enemies, with each one who fell replaced by ten Thomas More ever closing the space. Soon the dunes of backbone, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with deep productive red from the shattered humanity before us ; and soon our own would be motley in as well.

"Fight well my boys,"the old Colonel, George Frideric Handel, stubborn, dower, gruff and as social as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the roaring of dead reckoning and shell of cannon and mortar coming into the urban center."Fight well my son, and sell yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the last-place Word of God he ever uttered as he stood there, before the huge, wooden, city gates as an explosive laden cannon egg slammed into them ; torn asunder from their several rampart, they hung in the air for what seemed a eternity of time, before gravity sent them crashing down upon the honey old Colonel.

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

"Oh brother,"I just declared with an exasperated sigh, my eyes rolling to the heavens at the sheer number of erroneousness in the"factual bases romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a romance between a British people Captain of the 25th Regiment of pes, the honored"King's Own Borderers,"and his Lady love life, a genuine princess from India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the account book with a sporty catch of my deal, debating for a forgetful clip of consigning it to either the trash 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 suit I rent clothing, tuxedos, nightdress and all the stuff that goes along with them. This is in accession to being a small freight computer memory with a range of articles from the fixture, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still escape from my headspring each sentence I gaze upon the suit of roman armor on the mannequin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own piddling portion of the world, the grotesque, and hopefully, to be noted one of these years,"Phillip's Fabulous Fashions,"run by, of course of instruction, Phillip ( me ). It's a nice, trivial, rundown and stick up structure, with a atomic number 10 sign outside that works about of the sentence ; though I have to accept, that little cell tower on the roof is a bit of an annoyance, as every week or two, when a storm comes in, it gets hit by a bolt or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of job with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily narrate the scene you are envisioning, a lone man, oil production and norm in his own rightfulness, dealing with a boring shop, and boring customers, whose procedure is the Lapplander day in and day out. A very simple, steady, and number job and life, in which there is only one common denominator the proprietor has to deal with :

judgment quelling BOREDOM ! ! !

All too lawful for the most part, yet once in a smashing spell, as with close night, something comes along and flex my little deadening public on its head, and life is then never the same…as last night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

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


======
I was reading my later voice communication ledger to trying to learn Hindi ; both feet propped up on the desk, leaning too far back in the president and completely oblivious to what was going on in the storage. It took some time for my encephalon to cross-file the fact that, after respective hours of inactivity, a customer has come into the shop class ; clearly indicated by the balmy, distinct ding-ding-ding of the alarum on the door.

The exculpate, distinct and consistent clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of heights heels, did not fully register as they closed on my position. The soft, curved and quite attentive phantasm of my customer, blocking part of the operating cost firing, still had not penetrated the profoundness of my gem impenetrable cerebral matter.

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

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

She could take in been a livelihood goddess who deigned to condescend unto the earth and pass among mortals. Oh for some reason the heavens have become most king to me this eve ; or the doors to the profoundness of Hades have opened, and my unceasing doom and damnation is fully at hand. Only a being from another world or reality could compare to this manifestation of living beauty, a true avatar on globe, which deems me worthy for a stripped moment of her attention…

Just about five and a one-half human foot in peak, lithe and curved in all the rectify billet, she stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding a hanger on which hung one of the gowns for rental. The sheer sweetheart of her down in the mouth center, coppery peel and pearly dentition was accentuated by the fine, diffused, silken Shirley Temple hair that seemed to trip the light fantastic toe with life of its own.

She was clad in a simple, cream colored, spaghetti strap garb, the gentle trim of floral patterns in mysterious blueing and vivacious reds ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and knees. It clung to her body like a second level of cutis, showing off each sensuous contour line of her flowing feminine shape, the nipples 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 gown on…"she bent down a bit as the gown shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a filiation view of her partially revealed breasts…my eyes, then head, and the eternal sleep of my consistency moved to keep that view in passel, following along like one hooked upon a business line by the come-on of choice, knowing your own doom is at hand…

It was a moment in infinity, leaning slowly across quad and time…

…until I finally tipped too far in the electric chair, crashing to the level when my day of the month with gravitational force committed me to a meeting with the tough concrete level ; so swiftly did this happen that the Lady before me only had a moment to record the fact, a soft, musical gasp passing her backtalk as her free mitt shot up to brood it, eyes blanket in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the floor, reaching my manus up to grok the desk's edge. So far I am not making often of a first impression with the young lady ; and now I need to get back to a proper state of mind and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my bobby pin on the desk only brought a mountain of stacked leger by the edge crashing down with fully, brief, and brutal sounding encroachment upon my concrete dense head.

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

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

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

She handed it to me so I could hold in the tag figure on it ; judgment you, I never check the numbers game on the night-robe, as each one is unique ; it's just that, with her, I wanted to feature any excuse to be just a bit closer to her presence.

As for the gown she has selected ?

It is a rattling, strapless and shoulderless scrubs of shimmering emerald gullible assorted with sapphire wild blue yonder, with thread of lucky flowers, white hiss and silver cloud woven into the fabric. I could just conceive of what it would wait like on her, and wound up gulping for a second so I could breathe once again.

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

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

All I could think of at this consequence is how very much of an plethora I must be to the world ; here she is, a rare gem of the humankind in my shop class, and I keep acting like a ignominy who should be dragged off to a corner of a yard by her bodyguards, then tied to a tree or military post as one stands off to the side declaring for his companions to get their gun for hire ready…

Then with a beast glow in his expression, eyes glowing from behind darkened sunglasses, he declares to them in number,"Aim low gentlemen, his manhood first and lick your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the wrack of keys, searching for the one to the changing room. My ears kept track of all strait, while my head generated all manner of ghostly commando entering, hopping like tacit death around the racks and stands of garments toward me with Jonathan Swift expiry in their hands, their missionary station to rescue the lady from the ‘ dangerous shop class owner who dared to look on her everlasting beauty…"

Key in manus, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such irreverent force that I went head over heals, rolling across its airfoil, and landing on the other side upon my feet. Her flabby gasp and laugh dancing in those eyes continued when I gave a rebuff, clumsy and completely inept bow with a expression of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One thing I can say about myself is that when I make a arrant sucker of ego in any state of affairs, I do it in dramatic style and New York minute. 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 head seems to be malfunctioning…it seems I have forgotten your name…"I said.

"Jasmine,"she said.

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

Trying to sustain a professional and ennoble composure I set out for the recession of the store, a sheer long walk of about forty or so understructure. 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 side, close enough to let me reek the sweet perfume she wears ; something akin to cinnamon and honey mixed with rose petal. I followed her move into the changing way, especially noticing the gentle swaying of her coxa and the bounce of her bottom…until she turned to close the doorway and gave me a coy smile with a wink.

Reaching out to calm myself on a cloths single-foot, stunned by this bit of dalliance on her character, I missed and once again got introduced to the fine concept of soberness and the impact upon the storey. Amazingly I was unhurt by this particular fall ; however, the shock did bounce the cloths rack just enough to induce it to diminish over upon me, and the one just across the gangway from it, and the stack of ledger upon each one as well…

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

Thankfully being of distinctly male person heritage, I have inherited the traditional, tough boned, concrete dense head most of my ancestors possessed. So it comes in quite ready to hand, such as the crashing of cloths racks and account book onto said head, in preventing my premature extinction from this lifetime.

As I pulled myself out from the massacre of clothing and ledger I heard the balmy chuckle of fille Jasmine, who looked out from the changing room ; a grinning of entertainment and mischief on her aspect, eyes dancing with loving and tender laughter - not of despite but actual entertainment - one arm crossed over her titty, the robe she has on holding to her waist by the barest of motionless.

Just looking upon those hidden rich people beneath her arm, the campaign of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly rise and fall like a elegant professional dancer practicing a well known turn for warm up, made my brainiac flash into instant steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the wearable and books. Right now, this was the sole way I could keep my intellect off of her ; and the bulging response my romantic desires have caused, threatening to tear my britches asunder in the front…

One by one I straightened the ledge of shoes, wear on the wheel and totally ignored the campaign 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 blockade body. I mean, what do you expect, I'm a guy, and a nerdish geek as well…

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

She had one foot raised onto the sitting chair each changing way has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer clean lacing ; decorated in the patterns of flowers, ivy vines and singing hiss in flight. It accentuated the coppery tone of her skin, hugging the curved shape of her honed muscular tissue, sloping like a baseball glove over her metrical unit and toes.
Inch by column inch she moved it steadily up her golden stage, causing me to curb in place from the wonder of her every move, beauty and perfection combining feminine grace and concealed potency deep underneath if one bothered to look past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a wonder ; a nerd dreaming come on-key is here before me and I just stand there like a thoroughgoing changeling. I never got around to installing those television security cameras in the changing rooms as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

I'll just get to do that for next time.

======
Her movement with the stocking carry on upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to keep moving, but my brain refused to let my metrical foot go forward, backward, or any which way ; same for my head and eyes, the gray stuff between my ears kept screaming"MOVEMENT ALERT ! parking brake OVERRIDE ORDERED ! KEEP female IN SIGHT ! AT ALL toll bread and butter female IN tidy sum"

Now while this was going on, the more socially oriented, etiquette counterbalance dower of my thinker kept up a foresighted, whining, whimpering and pleading philippic ; over and over again, it kept emphasizing the wrongness of what the ease of my brain was driving me to do.

As it turned out, young lady Jasmine was fully aware of my presence ; a lot Thomas More than I had assumed just a moment before. Sometimes a man can own 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 grinning of her enlightening smiling. She gave her head a fragile waggle, one mixing mirth and hidden meaning as her hair danced around her cheek and Kuki-Chin, then flowed like fine silk that caressed the gilt 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 residue of her leg. Miss Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few clock time, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to swirl sensual practice upon the stockings material, figure of speech of hearts and entwined being, the symbols of old for erotica and love expressed in the silent speech communication of tease and seduction.

But those center, when they swept up to touch mine, the depths of them glimmered as twin universes unfolding to limitless depths ; dimensions of sensuality, sexuality, and the rawest of primal fiery feminine forces on display to anyone wishing to dare and maltreat over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, movement drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering mass of her breasts hung full moon and free for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive gulp, its replication carrying across the computer storage and drawing a soft, luscious giggle from her that sent the two wondrous heap of vague pleasance to bouncing around. The teat were fully rear, demanding that I close my mouth, unlock my nous and get in there to begin giving the downright demarcation of endurable passion to Miss Jasmine ; and to carry on until she is screaming from the pot cover, or I die from sheer exertion during the effort.

My blood was boiling with potty desire, my manhood at the absolute demarcation line of its agonistic efforts ; the roar that filled my brain demanded that I hurry on in an feat to seduce her and consummate a relationship rightfield then and there.

I could imagine that at any bit the ardour alert and smoke sensing element would go off ; as I was consumed on the spot in organic structure, mind and soul from the tsunamis of primal luxuria and heating system crashing and surging over my body and into the primordial soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the vista of the fire section senior pilot explaining to his chief :"He just erupted into flames and took out fifteen city blocks in the procedure ; though Miss Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

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

She turned slightly one more time and then bent over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silken pitch blackness laced framework here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one location I know that drives charwoman into the heights of ecstatic bliss and the depths of enlightenment when pleasured just right by someone…and then the material shifted just enough, deliberately done on her part, to set aside me to behold the mysterious profundity of her womanhood.

She stood up to the limits of her wonderful form ; stretching her hands high into the air, pulling the muscleman of her abdomen taunt to show the flawless perfection of each one in turn. Then with one arm behind her back, the early behind her neck, she altered her pose many clip over, shifting ft to foot, face to side, all with the free grace of a social dancer in complete control of her total being.

My regard kept shifting between her and the reflection in the mirror ; my mental capacity in desperate overburden as it kept demanding more and more stimulation from all of my senses ; with each pose, every subtle and absolute change in military strength and display of swan like goodwill in motion, the paradigm infused into my computer storage, branded there for all of time to come.

Putting both of her script behind her neck opening, turning her chest slightly to one English, she looked upon me and gave off a grand smile that would place a million billion of men racing to convey forth her every title, and die happy to take made such an effort.

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

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

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

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

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

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very variety of you to say so ; not very many would give way such an honest, from the bosom type of compliment. Most of the men and womanhood I deal with in the business human race are as ruthless and relentless as a drove of vipers in the thick of a violent death frenzy,"she said.

"Vipers in a cleanup fury ?"I softly inquired of from Miss Jasmine.

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

Unless…

My gulp probably sent shockwaves across the integral city ; causing nous to work in wonder, salvage for a smattering who would birth knowing flavor on their faces, approaching the door of my shop at any moment, hands hidden in their trench coats…

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

Would it be a last, not so friendly,"eve fellow"from the ‘ men in black'of the KGB just before they use the still pistol to fulfil me full of muddle and send away my store ? Or the ever efficient, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by Miss Jasmine's Godfather guardian, to"ease up Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the next turning of the kindling switch, erupts into a ball of fire and million fragments of metallic element tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her Majesties mystery serving, the infamous, double-oh's, who would do me in via a poisoned weenie, cyanide in the tonic, exploding outpouring pen. Oh I could see the finale one all too well in my worst dream of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the phone, and need to take a subject matter down, I tell the person on the early end,"just a present moment and I will spell this down,"I click the pen, and the burst takes out the total shop and all for ten blocks around while the manipulator calmly tells the other company on the phone"I am sorry, it appears your call option has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between parted fingers, seeing the soft petty pout on her face while she spoke of these other dishonest people. It gave me the additional effect that they saw her as one of three matter : admittedly contender due to her beauty, a one time conquest in bed or a potential playfellow and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to hear they treat you that way ; hopefully this gown will change their minds, not to advert wrick a few heads on mortal as wonderful as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

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

She smiled a smile like the richest of bee's love, teasingly running her tongue along her mouth as she looked down at my manhood. The first glimmering trails of sweat were commencing their journey down my forehead, my face flushing from terror filled heat, though she probably assumed it was generated for a different 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, to a greater extent than welcome,"I headed back to my desk, wondering just how very much problem I have stumbled into tonight ; and listened to her singing a sonant, haunting melodic line in the lyric of Bharat, beautiful as a dream and as longing as a tale told…

The very Holy Scripture I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the story of the British master of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the esteemed"magnate's Own Borderers,"who in the year 1869, made his hold up viewpoint in the comeupance and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to wonder, did she read the book, learn a avowedly tale the ledger is based upon…or is she a ghost of some variety maybe that of the long lost Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any more supposition had to hold off as I walked into the nook of my desk, the point jutting out in the flesh of a griffon delivering the full, unyielding force of Sir Henry Wood directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the dry land, mewling like a kitty as my eyes crossed over.

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



*********************
Back at my desk I just fidgeted with the paperwork, all of it done long ago as I waited for Jasmine to derive into view. I hoped that she would want to rend the nightdress and various others, maybe even to go a unwavering client for the shop.

Although that robe she has selected would hug her trope so tightly that one wrong move would sunder it to the hunky-dory level ; a sight any man and many women would relish to the replete !

Oh how I could see it happening…

She starts walking up the aisle, her luxuriously hound doing their calm clip-clip-clip-clip with each gradation she takes.

Her body would set the nightie to gleaming in the light source, swirling with the sapphire blue sky and emerald putting green as a sea of opalescent beauty ebbing and flowing ; her rose hip swaying ever so gently from English to side, causing her hair's-breadth to reverberate playfully where it sweeps down over her shoulder, ending just above those wonderful breasts that strain for exemption underneath the fabric.

Those sorry eyes dancing with sense of humor and roguishness, showing she wants the gown for the dark, and maybe for her own later on as a purchase.

Then one step results in the sudden tearing sound of material strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the textile tears away from her body, from one side to the other, leaving her momentarily in shock and incredulity at the perfidiousness it displayed ; leaving her breasts fully exposed, her fine hourglass figure shown to the world, and those stockings and undergarments the just covering she has.

And then her smile widens as she stands there with one hired man on her hip, arm bent-grass at the elbow, the other one playacting in her hair as she asks of me…

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

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

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

Her center showed a coy grammatical construction and she blew me a kiss.

My meat felt like it would instantly explode as my body becomes a bundle of smoldering ashes as a flash bulb fire slam me away into the afterlife.

Heavens above that gown matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a minute skin from her boob to the middle of her second joint. How it kept from going into instantaneous failure of the material I could not understand, as there should be no elbow room for any movement at all, let alone the diffused and unfaltering breathing she does, letting her boob rise and capitulation in such a way as to ask all men's attention instantly.

Putting her hired hand on rosehip, arms set at the elbows, she did a series of quarter and half turns for me to see the entire outfit. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, set at the articulatio genus, upon its surface, allowing me to see the hem of the gown leave way to the fuzz tan of her skin until it flows under the sheer lace stocking.

Supporting herself on one arm, she leaned forward and equal my cheek with her barren hired hand, swirling the digit confidential information in decelerate circles and teasing spirals.

I could smell her perfume, the heady concoction of body lotion and shampoo for her hair swirling into the smell of the workshop and the other habiliment ; along with the leather backing of my old office chair.

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

I finally managed to get my mouth to link with my mind and speak :

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

She giggled in pleasure, bringing a flush of uttermost embarrassment to my face.

The gown was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

I am really sword lily my bloomers were still hidden by the desk, as the flash she began caressing my cheek, my very manhood rose swiftly to the import and hit its sexual climax almost instantly. It would take in been tally mortification for her to see my own cum staining component of my britches.

It's a good thing I do keep a few exercise set of extra wearable 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 usual for me, old white potato and his most infamous of laws came home to roost.

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

The conflict was very small, only a few dollars, and I did not want to miss a rental or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her nitty-gritty on that one nightie, and I figured if I cut some slack, it would improve the odds of her becoming a repeat customer.

"misfire Jasmine I'll cut you a deal this time ; I will wave the sediment for this one metre only,"she looked at me with a expression of delight and surprisal, all but dancing around while clapping her script in excitement.

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

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

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

Her hands flew up to traverse her mouth, which just hung undetermined in a silent, shocked gasp of astonishment from my perfectly bold face and pudding head inquiry. Any moment now she will either storm out of the shop or slap me so hard I will be capable to see over my back for the rest of my life…which could cause a few problems with walking forward…

Her lips changed into an prankish grinning 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 class you can,"I said.

She pulled the cash for the gown's letting out of her pocketbook and hang over the desk to hand it to me, leaning in so close that she suddenly gave me a peck on the face followed by a smile.

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

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

Thankfully the falling metallic element crossbar that made up the duration of the wheel missed my headland and venter ; though as it crashed down upon my chestnut tree, I understood once again the classic dread of all men : The nuthatch maneuver.

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


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

The weatherman kept describing it with zestfulness :"This violent storm is to be one so hefty that it will rival that of the cataclysm of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the integral urban center will be destroyed. Flooding tens of feet deep will occur in the low few minutes ; while edifice will be burned by searing arcs of destructive lightning ; howling winds that will fill you with the dreaded cry of a banshee on the moor before they pick you up and fling you miles into the air for a bone smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the fourth clock time tonight as I turned the lighter off, exit the store and turn around to lock the door, the storm brews in high spirits overhead with the rumbling retort of smack echoing across the cities man made canyon of blade and concrete. Flashes of perch come from the lamp posts as the barest of miniature they provide spark on and off, the brighter flashes of lightning mixing with the initiatory falling of rain from the heavens to cast an eerie lambency across the demesne between multiplication of darkness.

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

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

Of course of instruction he is sedately sipping away on a cup of coffee between his ‘ desperate, risk 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 mention the fact he has most of the programme equipment upon the top and hood of MY BUG !

"good time it ! May you get your just reward for your act, this is unforgiveable !"I saw the feeling of everlasting disdain and disgust he gave me, especially as I pointed my remote freshman and car alarum activation doohickey ( sounds a lot better saying that than"remote control car key") and pushed the button.

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

The weatherman standing, smoldering microphone in his mitt, charred wear hanging from his underframe, while his eyes are alight in pure terror as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering mint of writhe metal and spare parts, victim of the acute series of lightning bolts that happen to hit at that hour.

"flack, I guess I forgot to move around off the auto destruct shift for my…"I had to smile as the weatherman howled in virtuous holy terror and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a hanker walk of life home in the rain, which is growing in volume and Bob Hope I can explain to the insurance policy company of how another car went up in smoke due to a lightning strike…six in one month now.

turn back to the door, I reached for the key again, and marvel again about Miss Jasmine and the grand old jester I have been played for…

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

She just stood in straw man of me trying to apologise for being of late while gasping for breath, the nightie strain to hold on integral as her breast heaved in and out at an alarming rate. It seems the car bringing her back to the shop class had broken down and she literally ran to the computer storage, trying to get back here in time. Mind you, the gown cling to her torso like a endorse skin, soaked through and through by the rainwater, allowing her heaving bosom to be seen in full particular, including those nipples at stark attention, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

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

Jasmine smiled at me, a coy look on her oculus, lips spread in a smile as her knife playfully licked and swirled over one of her finger's breadth held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her rose hip especially all right, keeping my attention fixed on her back tooth as she headed for the changing room.

A band of Marine and their police sergeant, out jogging in the rain, completely uncaring for this tearing tempest passed by and looked briefly at miss Jasmine with smiles and a quick chronological sequence of nods ; their sergeant-at-law declaring to the world"Men, now you know one ground we serve on the boundary of freedom ; to earmark such a lucky twain to experience fun creating the next generation of Marines…'

I shook my head in incredulity and started to ill-treat forward, amused by their exhibit of mood ; only to have the canopy over the threshold rent heart-to-heart and ditch congius of utterly ice cold rain body of water 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 move over her the key to the changing room. I did manage to find a torso 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 flaccid, musical singing as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the refuse I need to grapple with tomorrow morning. I put it in the common 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 agree my netmail and saw null of importance among them : just the common ailment about my VW microbe constantly drawing lightning down into the area and an interrogation from the radio station of the localisation of their weatherman.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodious voice. I have no idea how tenacious miss Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my business sector. But when I looked up, I almost had a heart fire on the spot. My brain melted away, bones became treacle and brawn just sagged in the Book of Revelation before me.

She had placed the blind drunk gown off to one side of my desk, and next to that is her own champaign gown she had on earlier this day. Her bag was on that surgical gown, and atop it laid her high heels and undergarments. Those unmingled white stockings were the sole affair else on as she stood there, smiling, hands on her hip joint and one leg slightly crossed in front end of the other.

Oh my lead !

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

Her coppery face shined in the Light, enhanced by the smiling of her lips, those blue sky heart dancing with a raw concoction of body fluid and awakened desire. Her devour pilus hung across those fine shoulders, ending just above the pair of boob so declamatory and fine that any man would be majestic to suffocate between them with a grand old grin of delight on his face.

Her early manus lay on her hip, legs set to hold up her pose as a model for a photo shoot would wear ; the Lapp affectation that allowed me a broad frontlet view of her strip fair sex !

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

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

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

psyche 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 cretin extraordinaire.

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

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

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

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

I can hardly wait to obtain 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 grown grin I have ever seen on a lady. Her legs shifted slightly, bending into the air at the knees as I got a crystalize aspect of her naked womanhood. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a third meter before rolling over onto her back, grasping her knees to bosom with her hands.

Her giggle drew my gaze up to her expression, to see her glimmering grin, and a repeat New York minute to me.

She swung up and around to change to being on her hands and knee 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 natural process she undertook ; even swirling her head around to send hair back over her shoulders made them bounce and jiggle, holding my interestingness like a frailty around a pipe.

I gave out a petty squeaking phone and scooted my chair closer to her.

Jasmine moved one manus upward, her fingers gently touching my cheek, moving in a inward spiral only to annul instruction and repeat the pattern twice more, drawing a heated flush to my face ; my breath was beginning to sound like a dampen Bellow, raspy and heated, as the ardor of desire stoked higher and high-pitched in my body.

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

The former, the portion gradually gaining ground ; said to let it happen and enjoy the ride !

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my Kuki-Chin and jaw, then my sassing in restate roach 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 brow, then covering my ear.

Each here and now of motion set my physical structure temperature higher and higher ; feeling like my organic structure should evaporate in a blow of steam that would take in me utterly.


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

Her osculation was one of pure fire and lightning ; surging across each and every fiber of my body. I could sense the sweat beginning to appear on my peel, my manhood rising in full to the instant, as on my rim the salty taste of her own flowed and measured, bringing a svelte taste that mixed with the strawberry flavored lip rouge she has put on sometime tonight.

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

Then she planted that fiery, passion filled, electrifying 2nd osculation, followed by a third, and even a quaternary ; each one redoubling the intensiveness of the preceding kiss.

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

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

I heard a small, contented sigh pass her lips.

I started to kiss her cervix, taking great delight in the taste of her hide ; a mixture of odour arising of her perfume and personal smelling ; along with that from her earlier dinner - fine steak with sauce, broiled veggies, and the ripe odor of clover and vinegar from a side of meat dish of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to begin kissing my neck with such effect I imagined there would be lip gull well into the next month. I could feel the warmth of her quickening breathing place, the fires construction in her body from the attention given to her body and breast.

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 back talk as this happened, puckering and nibbling on them ; as she gave that oh-so-innocent feel on her brass, while her heart danced with abandonment of all control over her burning passion.

When her foot wound up stroking my humanness I thought I would erupt into flaming. It was all that I could do to keep my manhood from pushing over the boundary and hitting my release ; I did not want this fun to end any prison term soon.

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

brace on one arm, she brought her former hand to her lips, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the fingers ; and then playfully sucking away as her optic and smile enticed me into their profundity. Then her hand commenced to move down her body, teasing circles on her chest ; across each white meat, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small circles and spirals she executes, the tit firmly at tending and then some. She brings each one up to her lips, sucking and licking them gently, middle locked upon me with a message that the fun was about to reach a new level of intensity.

I put my manus on her one leg, gently running them over the house muscles, caressing and softly massaging each in turn, working my way up to her interior second joint. Where the stuff of her stocking gave way to flesh, I made sure to redouble my feat, seeking each bit that would induce a shivering, quivering or giggle deriving bit of hotshot.

I moved my president in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her wooden leg up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to osculate her further and further upwards toward her pelvis. She lay back, heart closing once again as I drew closer to her fair sex ; breath becoming mixed with diffused cooing and shiner like squeaks, lips being gnawed on as desires mixed and flowed, hands covering her sassing as the finger made soft balls, only to issue and reduce again moments later.

I commenced to gently bumble soft puffs of air onto her thighs, alternating side to side, generating pocket-sized ripple of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within scope of her most buck private of field, one puff followed another, causing her to squirm and dance about while a jet of giggle and squeals erupted past her sass ; hands covering up the growing blush on her glistening skin.

When my tongue slid within those sorcerous deepness, savoring the appreciation of flesh and mixture of texture, the heat of her consistency and scents mixing one into another with the step of a coursing river, her hips swayed about, back arching to the promised land and her hands flying down to grab my head, firmly holding me in place.

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

For a mo I could see my headstone, engraved upon its marble airfoil the words :

"He died pleasing a goddess made flesh ; at to the lowest degree there was a smiling on his face."

As my ministrations reached the hidden region oceanic abyss within, that one location bringing maximum delight to all women, she thrust one leg straight out against the building block of shelves I use for record storage ; it promptly collapsed into a cumulation of wreckage with a crash both of us ignored.

More and more my exploration and succour flowed into a series of letter panache across the alphabet and varying in pep pill and force ; I just wanted now and always to get out every Panthera uncia of admiration and Passion I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the electric chair sliding out from under me, leaving somberness briefly in command of my destiny until the floor rushed up to smack solidly into my soundbox ; the chair rolled with some strength backwards, bouncing off the wall and into a nearby fabric single-foot, which promptly toppled over into another, and a chain reaction commenced across the store…half the wrack collapsing or toppling over by the time it ended.

As I climbed back up to my knees, looking at the utter devastation, then back to her, she giggled and covered her mouth with one script, giving off a easygoing"Oops !"

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

She got up off the desk and stood there for a minute not saying anything. I finally climbed up, figuring the mood was done for - the death of a workshop can have that burden on a Night of intimate activity between two people…

"Well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the next words out of my mouth early than as a assortment of squeals and peals as she moved up right next to me, one deal pressing the little of my dorsum while the former slid down my britches, and commenced to knead my manhood along its full area ( 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 ministration threatened to transmit me into instant and all over meltdown.

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

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

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

Her hand came back to stay their joyous ministrations of my manhood, each campaign sending a series of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying whizz into my brain. My eyes felt like they would cross over to the other socket and persist in proper out of my ears, which had to have locoweed bellowing out in pillar for anyone to smell and see.

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

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

The room felt like it was spinning round and rung, the sounds of the rain and counter of lightning shaking and quaking the building ; ignitor 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 nerve cell at a time.

motility by relocation, present moment by moment she kept me right on the edge, until she sensed I could maintain back no more and quickly lay over the desk on her stomach.

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

I kept pumping and pumping, until a spot was hit in which my torso started to shake and quake, the total wafture of delight reaching new heights.

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

She shouted something in her aboriginal voice communication of Hindi, then again in another - I assumed screams of delight and intense passionate smell that must be flowing through her at that moment.

Then she shouted out to me, flashy and clear :

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

Faster and fast I continued pumping away, until the stemma was crossed and a shrieking of primal heat went roaring from my lips…

okey it was more like a scream of an plane crossed with a damp down washer.

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a one-third time my release hit, sending my life history seed deep into her body.

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

Jasmine hit her tone ending at the Sami heartbeat as my own, her dead body having shook with such force out and excitement that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a quick grab by me, arms around her waistline and chest kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a smiling of contentment and wonderment on her look. For a moment her regard went downward to her thigh, which I saw had a trace of my animation seed mixed with her release flowing downward.

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

I saw the clear worry in her eyes, the anticipation of some unconscionable sum, or some kind of outburst on my part.

"I don't know ; my insurance should cut through most of it, just going to assume a few mean solar day to get everything back in one firearm before I can open again. All of that commercial enterprise being lost will be a problem with my throwaway coming due in the next week or so,"I had to shake my head as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me crap a fast call…"she went to her purse and stood there, debating with somebody on the other end of her cadre phone ; mind you she was still in her natal day case, 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 triumph sign.

"Mr. Phillip's my female parent will overcompensate everything that needs fixing and your business passing ; her secretary Miss Claude Elwood Shannon will be here in the morning to cause an initial estimate with you."

"Where does your female parent get that form of money from ?"Was she truly the girl of a Mafia Godfather ? Or yet big, A Mafia Godmother ; one who knows my address now and will demand due recompense in the most dreadful and final of sadistic means for a bit of society with her daughter ?

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

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

Many, many meter risky ! Her mother is a diplomat at the UN of all matter ! ! !

I looked at the door, expecting her escort or assassins dispatched by her mother to get along in and broom her away to safety, while reducing me and my shop class to a spile of smoldering kindling after introducing me to all manner of delightful tortures to pernicious and hideous to contemplate…

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

"Oh and Mr. Phillip's I want to thank you for reading that rule book on your desk ; it's not the good fabrication in the reality I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her smile was one of genuine mischief, which let me know how terrible the book really reads.

"Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my part, I will not only tell my friends to come here for the honest gown around ; I will total by each night and bed you, for as long as you want, as many times each dark 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 manoeuvre home plate for the night ; she mentioned in passing that she will give some friends with her the adjacent evening for our"fun"after the shop class closes. I wondered if the edifice would even make it ; let alone be standing if another such night is held in the place…of course of study it would be fun to find out out ! ! !


( fin. )