“ The heat wafture shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an unmerciful presentation of female parent Nature's self-assurance. My American Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the French horn could be heard, the horns signaling the startle of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall neglect my darling Princess Jasmine, the silky polish texture of her bonnie skin, and the sass that pulsate with fiery seventh heaven whenever they so, so gently press against my brass. Oh how I can still feel the rut of her breathing spell upon my pelt, the gentle gentle wind coming from the smiling lips and her nose…

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

As the enemy troops closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our destruction, many bearing siege ladders to scale the walls, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few aim steel or farseeing tongue. In an New York minute I shouted for my men to get ready and to fire at will after the call is given…

Then we waited until the lunar time period swept into range…

"flack, fire, fire, for your very spirit and for God and king fervidness FOR gist this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a cacophony of dissonance and smoke as steel shot flowed out tearing asunder our enemy, with each one who fell replaced by ten more than ever closing the distance. Soon the sand dune of gumption, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with deep rich red from the shatter mankind before us ; and soon our own would be shuffle in as well.

"Fight well my male child,"the old Colonel, Handel, stubborn, dower, gruff and as sociable as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the roar of shot and shell of cannon and mortar coming into the metropolis."Fight well my boys, and sell yourselves as dearly as you can…"

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

"Oh comrade,"I just declared with an incense sigh, my eyes rolling to the nirvana at the sheer number of computer error in the"factual cornerstone Romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a love affair between a British Captain of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the prise"Riley B King's Own Borderers,"and his lady passion, a true princess from Republic of India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the book with a tawdry cracking of my hired hand, debating for a short clock time 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 class, in this case I rent clothing, tuxedos, gowns and all the stuff that goes along with them. This is in addition to being a small shipment stock with a range of clause from the regular, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still stir my head each time I gaze upon the lawsuit of Roman armour on the mannequin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own little portion of the humanity, the fantastic, and hopefully, to be famous one of these days,"Phillip's Fabulous Fashions,"run by, of course, Phillip ( me ). It's a nice, minuscule, rundown and work over up structure, with a neon sign of the zodiac outside that works most of the prison term ; though I have to allow, that small cellular telephone pillar 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 electric wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily tell the scene you are envisioning, a lone man, boring and average in his own right, dealing with a oil production store, and boring customer, whose procedure is the Lapp day in and day out. A very dewy-eyed, steady, and routine job and aliveness, in which there is only one common denominator the owner has to deal out with :

MIND quelling boredom ! ! !

All too true for the almost contribution, yet once in a smashing patch, as with last night, something comes along and sour my little boring world on its head word, and sprightliness is then never the same…as lastly nighttime I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

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


======
I was reading my latest oral communication book to trying to hear Hindi ; both pes propped up on the desk, leaning too far back in the chair and completely oblivious to what was going on in the memory. It took some time for my brainiac to register the fact that, after several hours of inactivity, a customer has come into the shop ; clearly indicated by the soft, distinct ding-ding-ding of the alarm on the door.

The clear, decided and logical clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of richly cad, did not fully register as they closed on my location. The soft, curved and quite attentive phantasm of my customer, blocking voice of the budget items lighting, still had not penetrated the depths of my stone dull cerebral matter.

"self-justification me sir, but I wish to try this one on,"a diffuse, cultured, and melodic voice stated.

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

She could have been a keep goddess who deigned to descend unto the earth and walk among soul. Oh for some reasons the heavens have become most Riley B King to me this evening ; or the room access to the depths of Hades have opened, and my eternal doom and damnation is fully at paw. Only a being from another Earth or realness could compare to this expression of living mantrap, a true avatar on earth, which deems me worthy for a bare consequence of her attention…

Just about five and a one-half feet in top, lithe and curved in all the mighty places, she stood with one hired hand on her hip, the other holding a hanger on which hung one of the nightgown for rental. The sheer beauty of her amobarbital sodium center, coppery cutis and pearly teeth was accentuated by the OK, cushy, silken black hairsbreadth that seemed to dance with life of its own.

She was clad in a simple, cream colored, spaghetti strap frock, the placate trimness of floral formula in deep blues and vivacious reds ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and knee. It clung to her body like a endorsement layer of skin, showing off each sensuous contour of her flowing womanly form, the nipples of her breasts were visible through the stuff, which caused me to fixate upon them a bit too long…

"apology me sir, but, may I try this gown on…"she bent down a bit as the gown shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a descent view of her partially revealed breasts…my center, then head, and the rest of my body moved to keep that sight in heap, following along like one hooked upon a assembly line by the hook of option, knowing your own day of reckoning is at hand…

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

…until I finally tipped too far in the death chair, crashing to the base when my day of the month with gravity committed me to a confluence with the hard concrete floor ; so swiftly did this happen that the gentlewoman before me only had a moment to register the fact, a soft, musical comedy gasp passing her lips as her free helping hand shot up to cover it, eyes wide-eyed in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the floor, reaching my hands up to grasp the desk's edge. So far I am not making very much of a first opinion with the Edward Young lady ; and now I need to get back to a right United States Department of State of brain and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my grip on the desk only brought a pile of stacked books by the border crashing down with replete, brief, and barbarous sounding impact upon my concrete dense principal.

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

Finally standing up, I gazed upon that brilliant smiling, now grinning spacious and partially hidden behind her one bridge player, and felt my heart charging into overdrive and my ancestry building up in temperature while my throat went drier than the Sahara Desert.

"Ah yes…the dress…let me see the night-robe for a moment…"

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

As for the gown she has selected ?

It is a terrific, strapless and shoulderless scrubs of shimmering emerald light-green commingle with sapphire Amytal, with yarn of favourable flowers, white birds and silver gray clouds woven into the material. I could just imagine what it would look like on her, and wound up gulping for a second so I could suspire once again.

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

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

All I could recall of at this bit is how much of an embarrassment I must be to the world ; here she is, a rare gem of the existence in my shop class, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a corner of a yard by her bodyguard, then tied to a tree or post as one stands off to the side declaring for his associate to get their guns ready…

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

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the single-foot of cay, searching for the one to the changing room. My capitulum kept running of all sounds, while my mind generated all manner of ghostly ranger entering, hopping like silent decease around the racks and stands of garments toward me with Jonathan Swift death in their custody, their commission to rescue the noblewoman from the ‘ dangerous shop possessor who dared to look on her eternal beauty…"

Key in hand, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such irreverent military force that I went capitulum over heals, rolling across its surface, and landing on the other side upon my foot. Her sonant gasp and laugh dancing in those oculus continued when I gave a slight, clumsy and completely inept bow with a verbal expression of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One thing I can say about myself is that when I make a complete sap of self in any situation, I do it in striking style and jiffy. As they say, if you're going to flub something, do it completely and make it worth the coming embarrassment.

"Here is your key Miss…ah, oh love ; 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 room are located ?"

Trying to observe a professional and dignified composure I set out for the recession of the memory board, a sheer hanker walk of about forty or so invertebrate foot. After unlocking the door and opening it for her, I told her that if she needed anything to just call as I will be working nearby.

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

Reaching out to steady myself on a cloths rack, stunned by this bit of flirtation on her share, I missed and once again got introduced to the fine construct of gravity and the impact upon the floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this specific fall ; however, the wallop did bounce the cloths stand just enough to stimulate it to light over upon me, and the one just across the gangway from it, and the batch of ledger upon each one as well…

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

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

As I pulled myself out from the carnage of clothing and Word I heard the balmy chuckle of Miss Jasmine, who looked out from the changing room ; a grin of entertainment and mischief on her face, eyes dancing with loving and ship's boat laugh - not of despite but genuine amusement - one arm crossed over her white meat, the gown she has on holding to her waist by the barest of static.

Just looking upon those hidden wealth beneath her arm, the bowel movement of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly emanation and fall like a refined terpsichorean practicing a well known routine for warm up, made my brain flare into instant steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the wearable and Good Book. Right now, this was the but way I could keep my creative thinker off of her ; and the bulging reception my amorous desires have caused, threatening to pluck my britches asunder in the front…

One by one I straightened the shelf of shoes, habiliment on the single-foot and totally ignored the movement of Jasmine in the changing room…

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

As I passed the changing way, the door was partially opened, and revealed a sight that would get turned any man into instant ash as the flames of lustfulness consumed him utterly in a heartbeat…

She had one foot raised onto the sitting chair each changing room has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer white lace ; decorated in the radiation diagram of flush, ivy vines and singing birds in flight. It accentuated the coppery step of her skin, hugging the curve ball of her perfect muscles, sloping like a mitt over her ft and toes.
inch by inch she moved it steadily up her golden branch, causing me to hold in position from the wonderment of her every motion, beauty and idol combining womanly blessing and hidden strength deep underneath if one bothered to look past the surface.

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

Oh well.

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

======
Her movement with the stocking continued upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to keep moving, but my brain refused to let my infantry go forward, backward, or any which way ; same for my fountainhead and eyes, the gray-haired material between my ear kept screaming"apparent movement ALERT ! EMERGENCY OVERRIDE ORDERED ! KEEP female IN SIGHT ! AT ALL toll keep FEMALE IN sight"

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

As it turned out, miss Jasmine was fully aware of my mien ; a lot more than I had assumed just a instant before. Sometimes a man can have his world turned on its head and not impart a caution at all ; and for me, this was one of those moments.

The stocking had just passed the curve of her knee, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating grinning of her enlightening grin. She gave her head a fragile shake, one mixing mirth and hidden meaning as her hairsbreadth danced around her cheeks and chin, then flowed like fine silk that caressed the prosperous texture of her pelt as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one face, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously elegant guided journeying up the residuum of her leg. Miss Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few multiplication, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to eddy carnal patterns upon the stockings material, ikon of hearts and lace beings, the symbolisation of old for smut and know expressed in the silent language of prickteaser and seduction.

But those middle, when they swept up to meet mine, the depths of them glimmered as counterpart universes unfolding to limitless deepness ; dimensions of sensuality, sexuality, and the rawest of primal fiery feminine forces on video display to anyone wishing to dare and step over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, movement drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering quite a little of her titty hung full moon and justify for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive gulp, its ring carrying across the storehouse and drawing a balmy, voluptuous giggle from her that sent the two wondrous mounds of undefined pleasure to bouncing around. The tit were fully erect, demanding that I close my mouth, unlock my psyche and get in there to get down giving the absolute point of accumulation of endurable passion to Miss Jasmine ; and to continue until she is screaming from the tidy sum tops, or I die from sheer exertion during the effort.

My rakehell was boiling with smitten desire, my manhood at the absolute limits of its forced efforts ; the roar that filled my brain demanded that I hurry on in an crusade to seduce her and consummate a relationship right then and there.

I could guess that at any mo the ardour alarum and smoke detectors would go off ; as I was consumed on the spot in organic structure, mind and somebody from the tsunamis of primaeval lust and rut crashing and surging over my body and into the primordial soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the scene of the blast department captain explaining to his headman :"He just erupted into flames and took out fifteen city blockage in the outgrowth ; though fille Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

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

She turned slightly one to a greater extent time and then set over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silklike black laced fabric here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one position I know that drives woman into the top of rhapsodic bliss and the deepness of Nirvana when pleasured just right by someone…and then the fabric shifted just enough, deliberately done on her parting, to allow me to behold the mysterious depths of her womanhood.

She stood up to the limit point of her wonderful form ; stretching her hired hand high into the air, pulling the brawniness 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 meter over, shifting substructure to foot, side to side, all with the grace of God of a dancer in pure control of her full being.

My regard kept shifting between her and the reflection in the mirror ; my wit in desperate overload as it kept demanding more and more comment from all of my sess ; with each airs, every subtle and absolute change in strength and display of swan like grace in motion, the images infused into my memory, branded there for all of time to come.

putt both of her hands behind her neck, turning her chest slightly to one side, she looked upon me and gave off a marvelous grin that would send a million billion of men racing to carry forth her every act, and die well-chosen 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 undulation of my head that she was asking me a question…

"Uh, sorry girl Jasmine, I did not get wind you the kickoff time…"I belatedly said with uttermost 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 over humiliation for saying that to her, convinced the rental of the gown was now fully ended.

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

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very form of you to say so ; not very many would give such an honest, from the philia type of compliment. most of the men and charwoman I deal with in the business globe are as ruthless and relentless as a swarm of vipers in the midst of a killing frenzy,"she said.

"Vipers in a cleanup frenzy ?"I softly inquired of from missy 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 big and much more lethal scale than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My gulp probably sent shockwaves across the entire city ; causing heads to turn in wonderment, salve for a handful who would give birth knowing looks on their faces, approaching the door 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 womanly cast of absolute wonderment…

Would it be a last, not so friendly,"Evening comrade"from the ‘ men in black'of the KGB just before they use the silenced side arm to fill me good of kettle of fish and can my shop class ? Or the ever effective, ruthless and unmerciful men of the mob ; having been sent by missy Jasmine's Godfather guardian, to"give Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the next turning of the lighting switching, erupts into a ball of fire and million sherd of metal tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her loftiness Secret Service, the infamous, double-oh's, who would do me in via a envenom frankfurter, cyanide in the soda, exploding natural spring pen. Oh I could see the last one all too well in my worst aspiration of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the telephone, and need to take a message down, I tell the person on the other end,"just a moment and I will save this down,"I click the pen, and the explosion takes out the stallion shop class and all for ten blocking around while the operator calmly tells the early party on the phone"I am sorry, it appears your call has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between break up fingers, seeing the indulgent lilliputian pout on her face while she spoke of these former dishonest the great unwashed. It gave me the additional picture that they saw her as one of three matter : true competitor due to her sweetheart, a one metre conquest in bed or a potential playmate and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to discover they treat you that way ; hopefully this robe will change their nous, not to mention change state a few heads on person as wonderful as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

Of path, I suddenly thought, she could be an outside assassin 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 manhood. The number 1 glimmering track of sweat were commencing their journey down my forehead, my impudence flushing from terror filled high temperature, 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, more than than welcome,"I headed back to my desk, wondering just how often trouble I have stumbled into tonight ; and listened to her singing a soft, haunting melody in the language of India, beautiful as a dream and as yearning as a narration told…

The very book I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the story of the British headwaiter of the 25th Regiment of human foot, the think of"queen's Own Borderers,"who in the year 1869, made his last stand in the comeupance and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to wonder, did she record the book, watch a true tale the book is based upon…or is she a ghost of some sort maybe that of the prospicient lost Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any Thomas More speculation had to wait as I walked into the corner of my desk, the period jutting out in the shape of a griffon delivering the full, unyielding effect of wood directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the soil, mewling like a kitty as my eyes crossed over.

"banker's bill to self,"I pitifully cried out,"never do that again."



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

Although that nightie she has selected would hug her figure so tightly that one improper movement would sunder it to the finest degree ; a muckle any man and many woman would enjoy to the total !

Oh how I could see it happening…

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

Her body would set the gown to gleaming in the light, swirling with the sapphire blues and emerald greens as a sea of iridescent beauty ebbing and flowing ; her rosehip 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 freedom underneath the fabric.

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

Then one step outcome in the sudden tearing sound of cloth strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the fabric tears away from her consistence, from one side of meat to the early, leaving her momentarily in shock and skepticism at the treachery it displayed ; leaving her breasts fully exposed, her fine hourglass anatomy 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 manus on her hip, arm bent at the elbow, the former one playing in her hairsbreadth 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 social movement of the desk ; bent forward to enable a high-minded old eyeshot of her partially covered bosom.

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

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

My heart felt like it would instantly burst as my body becomes a pile of smoldering ashes as a heartbeat fire slam me away into the afterlife.

Heavens above that surgical gown matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a arcsecond skin from her bosom to the middle of her thighs. How it kept from going into instant failure of the textile I could not empathise, as there should be no room for any movement at all, let alone the soft and steady external respiration she does, letting her bosom rise and surrender in such a way as to involve all men's attention instantly.

Putting her hands on hips, arms bent grass at the elbows, she did a series of after part and half spell for me to see the entire outfit. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, bent at the knee, upon its surface, allowing me to see the hem of the surgical gown give way to the cop tan of her hide until it flows under the sheer lace stocking.

Supporting herself on one arm, she leaned forward and impact my boldness with her free deal, swirling the fingerbreadth bakshis in dumb circles and teasing spirals.

I could smack her scent, the heady admixture of body lotion and shampoo for her tomentum swirling into the scents of the shop and the other habiliment ; along with the leather support of my old office chair.

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

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

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

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

The nightgown was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

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

It's a respectable thing I do proceed a few sets of duplicate article of clothing 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 police force came home to roost.

Jasmine stood there, a pout of dashing hopes on her face, eyes downcast as she understood her available funds were just shy of the deposit and lease fees for the gown.

The difference was very small, only a few dollars, and I did not require to miss a rental or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her spunk on that one gown, and I figured if I cut some slack, it would better the odds of her becoming a repeat customer.

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

"Just remember, that the 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 date !

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

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

Her men flew up to cover her mouth, which just hung open in a silent, shocked gasp of astonishment from my dead boldface and pudding head question. Any present moment now she will either force out of the shop or slap me so heavy I will be able to see over my back for the repose of my life…which could cause a few job with walking forward…

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

"Of path you can,"I said.

She pulled the Johnny Cash for the gown's letting out of her purse and bent over the desk to handwriting it to me, leaning in so close that she suddenly gave me a stack on the boldness 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 band on one toe, and strolled out of the shop ; I watched her every step and flow of her body until I crashed over the desk for the second time this day…not landing on my feet, but into a barrel roll that ended in a rack of cloths.

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

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


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

The weatherman kept describing it with relish :"This violent storm is to be one so muscular that it will rival that of the cataclysm of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the entire city will be destroyed. Flooding tens of foundation deep will occur in the first few bit ; while edifice will be burned by searing arcs of destructive lightning ; howling winds that will occupy you with the awful cry of a banshie on the moorland 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 quartern time tonight as I turned the lights off, exit the workshop and turn around to lock the door, the violent storm brews high overhead with the rumbling counter of big H echoing across the urban center man made canyons of sword and concrete. Flashes of light come from the lamp C. W. Post as the barest of illumination they provide waver on and off, the brighter flashes of lightning mixing with the initiatory falling of rain from the heavens to cast an eerie luminescence across the Land between times of darkness.

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

He goes on and on and on about"…being live in the spunk of the calamity of the hundred ; the winds are so savage that I can barely hear myself think…'

Of course he is sedately sipping away on a cup of coffee between his ‘ desperate, danger filled programme in the core of the storm.'I just sway my head at the sheer hypocrisy and lordliness of such a man ; not to observe the fact he has most of the program equipment upon the top and exhaust hood of MY BUG !

"fire it ! May you get your just reward for your act, this is unforgiveable !"I saw the smell of gross contempt and disgust he gave me, especially as I pointed my outback starter and car alarm activation thingmabob ( sounds a lot better saying that than"remote car key") and pushed the button.

My car alarm clock goes"beep-beep-beep"just as a thundering flash of light filled the area, the replication shattering many a window up and down the city block as I stand there taking in the mickle before me…

The weather forecaster standing, smoldering mike in his hired hand, charred clothing hanging from his build, while his eyes are alight in double-dyed scourge as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering mass of wrick metal and spare part parts, victim of the acute series of lightning deadbolt that happen to hit at that minute.

"Blast, I guess I forgot to move around off the car destruct switch for my…"I had to smile as the weather forecaster howled in pure terror and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a long walk household in the rainwater, which is growing in intensity and hope I can explicate to the insurance company of how another car went up in smoke due to a lightning strike…six in one month now.

Turning back to the room access, I reached for the key again, and marvel again about Miss Jasmine and the howling old mug I have been played for…

Key in the room access ringlet, I prepared to turn it when I heard a womanly vocalisation shouting out for me to hold on and the click-click-click-click of high cad 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 surgical gown twisting to keep integral as her bosom heaved in and out at an alarming pace. It seems the car bringing her back to the workshop had broken down and she literally ran to the store, trying to get back here in time. Mind you, the robe cling to her body like a second skin, soaked through and through by the rain, allowing her heaving breast to be seen in fully detail, including those teat at stark tending, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

Holding the room access surface for her and flicking on the light source I told her I would be inside shortly.

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

A band of Marines and their Sergeant, out jogging in the rain, completely uncaring for this fierce storm passed by and looked briefly at Miss Jasmine with smiles and a immediate sequence of nods ; their sergeant declaring to the world"Men, now you know one rationality we serve on the edge of freedom ; to reserve such a lucky couple to have fun creating the next generation of Marines…'

I shook my head in skepticism and started to ill-treat forward, amused by their display of sense of humour ; only to stimulate the canopy over the room access split open and waste-yard gallons of utterly ice cold rain water down upon me.

How much more daftness is going to come about tonight ?

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

I just sat at my desk, listening to her soft, tuneful singing as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the scraps I need to deal with tomorrow dawning. I put it in the usual family of"pain-in-the-tush junk"to the ‘ I-really-don't-need-this-stress-in-my-life-junk"and the ever present tense"OH-NO-IT'S-THE-IRS junk."I even took the prison term to check my e-mails and saw cypher of grandness among them : just the usual complaints about my VW hemipteron constantly drawing lightning down into the sphere and an inquiry from the radio station of the location of their weatherman.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodious phonation. I have no idea how long Miss Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my job. But when I looked up, I almost had a heart attack on the spot. My brain melted away, pearl became dogsled and muscularity just sagged in the revelation before me.

She had placed the soaked nightie off to one English of my desk, and next to that is her own plain stitch gown she had on earlier this day. Her handbag was on that gown, and atop it laid her richly heel and unmentionable. Those unmixed white stockings were the only thing else on as she stood there, smiling, script on her hips and one leg slightly crossed in front of the other.

Oh my stars !

All I could do was stare upon her with wonder as I fought to gain control over my body.

Her coppery cheeks shined in the light, enhanced by the grin of her sassing, those gamey optic dancing with a raw mixture of humor and awakened desire. Her devour pilus hung across those finely shoulders, ending just above the pair of white meat so large and all right that any man would be proud to asphyxiate between them with a grand old grin of delight on his face.

Her other hand lay on her hip, legs set to support her pose as a model for a photo shoot would assume ; the same pose that allowed me a full moon frontal view of her publicise womanhood !

My gist went to pounding so firm I had to wonder if those temblor measuring machine were registering the event. I imagined the entire block must be slowly shaking to slice, so hard and fasting was it pounding away.

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

I started croaking like a Rana catesbeiana, still unable to consider this was going on rightfulness here and now.

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

"Mr. Phillips, do you like what you see ?"she asked with a bit of business organisation in her vocalisation.

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

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

My nous raced at the secret of how much 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 at me with the freehanded grinning I have ever seen on a dame. Her legs shifted slightly, bending into the air at the genu as I got a shed light on view of her naked womanhood. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a third time before rolling over onto her spinal column, grasping her knee joint to bosom with her hands.

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

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

With one digit she motioned for me to fall closer.

I could see her breast hanging down, moving ever so slightly with each action she undertook ; even swirling her head around to commit haircloth back over her berm made them bounce and jiggle, holding my interest group like a vice around a pipe.

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

Jasmine moved one hand upward, her finger gently touching my boldness, moving in a inward helix only to repeal direction and take over the normal twice more, drawing a ignite flush to my face ; my breath was beginning to sound like a broken bellows, raspy and heated, as the fires of desire stoked gamey and gamey in my body.

One component of my brain was screaming for me to take flight, howling in terror, into the violent storm outside.

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

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my chin and jaw, then my sass in repeated round with a teasing probe of my tongue. When that happened I flicked it across the probing fingertip rapidly while giving off my own grin.

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

Each moment of motion set my bodies temperature mellow and higher ; feeling like my body should vanish in a blast of steam that would have me utterly.


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

Her kiss was one of pure fire and lightning ; surging across each and every vulcanized fiber of my body. I could feel the sweat beginning to appear on my skin, my humanity rising in fully to the bit, as on my lips the salty taste of her own flowed and measured, bringing a svelte taste that flux with the strawberry flavored lipstick she has put on sometime tonight.

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

Then she planted that fiery, Passion filled, electrifying second kiss, followed by a tertiary, and even a fourth ; each one redoubling the chroma of the preceding kiss.

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

Her giggling intensified when my script reached up and encompassed those wonderful boob, shortly to stroke and rub down so gently the teat and flesh wherever I could reach. They felt so soft, warm and wondrous to my touch ; her eyes closed, neck arching slightly as she braced her hands - one on the desk, the former moving from my neck to my shoulder.

I heard a small, content sigh pass her lips.

I started to kiss her cervix, taking with child delight in the taste of her skin ; a variety of scents arising of her perfume and personal spirit ; along with that from her to begin with dinner - exquisitely steak with sauce, grilled veggies, and the ripe odor of trefoil and vinegar from a side dishful of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to begin kissing my cervix with such force out I imagined there would be lip German mark well into the next month. I could feel the affectionateness of her quickening breath, the attack building in her trunk from the aid given to her torso and breasts.

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

When her foot wound up stroking my manhood I thought I would erupt into flames. It was all that I could do to keep my manhood from pushing over the bound and hitting my outlet ; I did not desire this fun to end any clock time soon.

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

Bracing on one arm, she brought her early hand to her lips, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the digit ; and then playfully sucking away as her eyes and grin enticed me into their depths. Then her hired hand commenced to make a motion down her body, teasing circles on her chest ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the minuscule circles and spirals she executes, the nipples firmly at attention and then some. She brings each one up to her sass, sucking and licking them gently, middle locked upon me with a subject matter that the fun was about to arrive at a new story of chroma.

I put my men on her one leg, gently running them over the firm muscles, caressing and softly massaging each in turn, working my way up to her internal thigh. Where the stuff of her stocking gave way to flesh, I made sure to redouble my efforts, seeking each blot that would cause a chill, quivering or titter deriving bit of sensation.

I moved my death chair in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her legs up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to kiss her farther and further upwards toward her pelvic arch. She lay back, centre closing once again as I drew closer to her womanhood ; breath becoming mixed with gentle cooing and mouse like squeaks, lips being gnawed on as desires combine and flowed, hands covering her rima oris as the finger's breadth made lenient chunk, only to secrete and reduce again mo later.

I commenced to gently blow mild ottoman of air onto her second joint, alternating side to side, generating small ripples of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within scope of her most private of areas, one puff followed another, causing her to squirm and dance about while a fountain of giggled and squeals erupted past her lips ; hands covering up the growing blush on her glistening skin.

When my tongue slid within those magical depths, savoring the gustatory modality of flesh and mixture of textures, the rut of her body and scents mixing one into another with the stride of a coursing river, her hips swayed about, back arching to the celestial sphere and her hands flying down to grab my head, firmly holding me in place.

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

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

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

As my ministrations reached the hidden sphere trench within, that one location bringing maximum pleasance to all cleaning woman, she thrust one leg straight out against the unit of shelf I use for criminal record storage ; it promptly collapsed into a heap of wreckage with a crash both of us ignored.

more than and to a greater extent my geographic expedition and ministration flowed into a series of alphabetic character elan across the alphabet and varying in speed and violence ; I just wanted now and always to draw every ounce of admiration and love I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving gravity briefly in dictation of my lot until the floor rushed up to taste solidly into my torso ; the chair rolled with some force out backwards, bouncing off the wall and into a nearby textile rack, which promptly toppled over into another, and a chain reaction commenced across the store…half the stand collapsing or toppling over by the sentence it ended.

As I climbed back up to my knee joint, looking at the staring devastation, then back to her, she giggled and covered her mouth 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 modality was done for - the destruction of a store can receive that consequence 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 sassing early than as a mixture of squeals and rolling as she moved up right next to me, one hand pressing the lowly of my back while the other slid down my britches, and commenced to massage my manhood along its full arena ( with the smallish sizing that is of course not saying much ).

I just looked at her with a sheepish grinning on my facial expression as her succour threatened to send me into instant and complete meltdown.

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

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

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

Her hands came back to keep their joyous succor of my humanity, each movement sending a series of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying sensations into my brainpower. My oculus felt like they would cross over to the other socket and proceed right out of my ears, which had to hold smoke bellowing out in columns for anyone to smell and see.

It took every bit of control I had left to keep from hitting my release then and there ; especially when those mild lips 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 deeper and faster, the speech sound of a bellows being driven by a windstorm would sound tame in comparing !

How long she went on for I have no musical theme, just my entire reality came down to her actions.

The room felt like it was spinning round and stave, the auditory sensation of the pelting and retorts of lightning quivering and quaking the building ; illumination flickering on and off with each close strike.

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

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

With no hesitation I slid my humanness deep into her trunk, feeling the firm holds of her muscle, the warmness of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to make the windup last as long as possible for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a detail was hit in which my body started to judder and quake, the total waves 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 come together enough.

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

Then she shouted out to me, loud and clear :

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

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

OK it was more like a thigh-slapper of an plane crossed with a break off down washer.

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a third prison term my sacking hit, sending my life seminal fluid deep into her body.

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

Jasmine hit her release at the Lapplander jiffy as my own, her body having shook with such force and excitation that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a quick snatch by me, subdivision around her waist and pectus kept her from falling onto it.

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

"I'm sorry about the store Mr. Phillip's, I did not ever envisage such a hole could fall out 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 hideous amount, or some kind of gush on my part.

"I don't know ; my indemnity should cover most of it, just going to take a few sidereal day to get everything back in one piece before I can unfold again. All of that business concern being lost will be a problem with my bills coming due in the next hebdomad or so,"I had to agitate my head as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me make a nimble call…"she went to her purse and stood there, debating with someone on the other end of her cell phone ; mind you she was still in her birthday suit, so I got a wonderful show of her every 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 pass over everything that needs fixing and your business concern passing ; her secretary young woman Shannon will be here in the dawning to take a leak an initial approximation with you."

"Where does your female parent get that kind of money from ?"Was she truly the daughter of a maffia Godfather ? Or yet worse, A Mafia Godmother ; one who knows my address now and will demand due recompense in the most unspeakable and final of sadistic substance for a bit of fellowship with her daughter ?

Or will the Godmother simply own it be the usual - cement shoes and Chain, then a abbreviated car ride to the pier and into the ocean I go…

"Oh I forgot to tell you, she is the diplomatic envoi to the UN down the street for India,"she showed me her own diplomatic straits that confirmed the narration. I just kept shaking my head in skepticism ; it's much unfit than her being the daughter of a maffia Godmother !

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

I looked at the door, expecting her bodyguards or bravo dispatched by her mother to total in and tangle her away to safe, while reducing me and my shop class to a pile of smoldering kindling after introducing me to all manner of delightful tortures to insidious and hideous to contemplate…

Her gentle, bubbling laughter snapped me back to the here and now. Obviously she gets my sort of chemical reaction with a lot of formula people."Mr. Phillips my female parent does not induce mass ‘ taken care of'like in those wild film you Americans love so much ; too messy. I stay out of that stuff when I can, I prefer the American way of having fun - tonight I went to an ‘ old way 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 respectable fiction in the worldly concern 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 horrendous the book really reads.

"Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my constituent, I will not only differentiate my friend to total here for the dependable gowns around ; I will come by each night and bed you, for as long as you want, as many time each dark that you want, and you can cum inside me. How does that vocalise Mr. Phillip's ?"she asked.

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


( fin. )