“ The warmth undulation shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the grit in an unmerciful presentation 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 French horn signaling the jump of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall neglect my beloved Princess Jasmine, the silky smooth texture of her sightly skin, and the back talk that pulsate with fiery bliss whenever they so, so gently insistency against my cheek. Oh how I can still sense the heat of her breathing place upon my skin, the gentle breeze coming from the smiling lips and her nose…

Then in an instant to the here and now I suddenly returned, calling out Order to the handful of my men who stood at the make behind the paries crenelation ; each one held the flavor of a man who knows that before the day is done, they will brook in judgment before He who watches over all of us on earth.

As the foe troops closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our Death, many bearing beleaguering ladders to scale the bulwark, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few bearing brand or long knives. 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 tide swept into range…

"Fire, fire, fervidness, for your very lives and for God and power FIRE FOR EFFECT this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a cacophony of randomness and fastball as steel snap flowed out tearing asunder our enemies, with each one who fell replaced by ten more ever closing the space. Soon the dunes of sand, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with deep rich red from the shatter humanity before us ; and soon our own would be mixed in as well.

"Fight well my boy,"the old Colonel, Handel, stubborn, portion, gruff and as mixer as a old rhino, shouted to us over the roar of shaft and plate of shank and howitzer coming into the city."Fight well my boy, and sell yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the death words he ever uttered as he stood there, before the Brobdingnagian, wooden, urban center William Henry Gates as an explosive laden cannon ball slammed into them ; torn asunder from their several walls, they hung in the air for what seemed a eternity of prison term, before gravity sent them crashing down upon the dear old Colonel.

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

"Oh brother,"I just declared with an exasperated sigh, my centre rolling to the heavens at the sheer number of erroneousness in the"factual stem romance"I was reading. Supposedly the generator wrote of a Latinian language between a British Captain of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the look on"world-beater's Own Borderers,"and his peeress love, a avowedly princess from Republic of India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the book with a flashy snap of my deal, debating for a short time of consigning it to either the trash can or saving it for kindling at the next cookout I have…which is about the solitary affair it's fit for.

There is one affair I have to say about owning and running your own shop, in this casing I rent clothing, tuxedos, gowns and all the poppycock that goes along with them. This is in add-on to being a small consignment store with a mountain range of articles from the fixture, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still shake my head word each time I gaze upon the courtship of Roman armor on the mannequin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own trivial dower of the humans, the fantastic, and hopefully, to be famous one of these sidereal day,"Phillip's Fabulous way,"run by, of row, Phillip ( me ). It's a Nice, trivial, summing up and beaten up anatomical structure, with a Ne planetary house outside that works most of the fourth dimension ; though I have to admit, that picayune 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 thunderbolt or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of problem with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily tell the tantrum you are envisioning, a lone man, boring and norm in his own right, dealing with a boring store, and boring customers, whose number is the Same day in and day out. A very simple, steadfast, and routine job and life, in which there is only one park denominator the proprietor has to deal with :

MIND suppression BOREDOM ! ! !

All too dead on target for the most section, yet once in a corking spell, as with endure night, something comes along and turns my little boring universe on its head word, and animation is then never the same…as survive night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

Tell you what, let me just begin from the origin, and write boring you to death…


======
I was reading my late language rule book to trying to learn 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 store. It took some clip for my brain to file the fact that, after several hours of inactivity, a customer has come into the store ; clearly indicated by the soft, distinct ding-ding-ding of the alarm on the door.

The cleared, trenchant and consistent clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of high heels, did not fully register as they closed on my localization. The delicate, curved and quite attentive tincture of my customer, blocking part of the overhead lighting, still had not penetrated the depths of my stone dense cerebral matter.

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

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

She could let been a aliveness goddess who deigned to fall unto the worldly concern and paseo among mortal. Oh for some reasons the heavens have become most king to me this evening ; or the doors to the depths of Hades have opened, and my unceasing day of reckoning and damnation is fully at deal. Only a being from another world or reality could compare to this grammatical construction of living stunner, a true avatar on earth, which deems me worthy for a bare second of her attention…

Just about five and a half feet in top, lithe and curved in all the redress places, she stood with one hand on her hip, the early holding a hanger on which hung one of the night-robe for rental. The sheer beauty of her blue middle, coppery skin and pearly teeth was accentuated by the fine, soft, silklike black hair that seemed to dance with lifespan of its own.

She was clad in a simple, ointment colored, spaghetti strap dress, the docile clipping of floral design in bass blues and vibrant loss ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and knees. It clung to her body like a second layer of skin, showing off each sensuous shape of her flowing feminine form, the nipples of her chest were visible through the material, which caused me to fixate upon them a bit too long…

"Excuse me sir, but, may I try this gown on…"she bent down a bit as the night-robe shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a descent view of her partially revealed breasts…my eye, then top dog, and the quietus of my dead body moved to restrain that aspect in muckle, following along like one hooked upon a argument by the bait of choice, knowing your own doom is at hand…

It was a moment in eternity, leaning slowly across place and time…

…until I finally tipped too far in the professorship, crashing to the floor when my appointment with gravity committed me to a meeting with the hard concrete floor ; so swiftly did this happen that the noblewoman before me only had a import to show the fact, a indulgent, musical theater gasp passing her rim as her free mitt shot up to cover it, centre all-encompassing in stupor and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the story, reaching my hands up to grasp the desk's edge. So far I am not making much of a first impression with the young Lady ; and now I need to get back to a right DoS of head and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my grip on the desk only brought a pile of stacked books by the boundary crashing down with full, legal brief, and vicious sounding shock upon my concrete dense drumhead.

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

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

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

She handed it to me so I could watch the tag routine on it ; mind you, I never check the numbers on the gown, as each one is alone ; it's just that, with her, I wanted to receive any alibi to be just a bit closer to her presence.

As for the nightgown she has selected ?

It is a marvelous, strapless and shoulderless nightdress of shimmering emerald green sundry with sapphire blues, with ribbon of golden flower, white doll and Ag swarm woven into the fabric. I could just opine what it would look like on her, and wound up gulping for a second so I could take a breather once again.

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

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

All I could reckon of at this here and now is how a lot of an embarrassment I must be to the world ; here she is, a rare gem of the Earth in my shop, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a corner of a chiliad by her escort, then tied to a tree diagram or post as one stands off to the side declaring for his familiar to get their shooter ready…

Then with a brute gleam in his verbal expression, eyes glowing from behind darkened dark glasses, he declares to them in turn,"Aim low man, his manhood first and work your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the rack of keys, searching for the one to the changing room. My ears kept track of all sounds, while my mind generated all manner of ghostly commando incoming, hopping like understood death around the wrack and bandstand of garments toward me with Sceloporus occidentalis dying in their paw, their deputation to rescue the lady from the ‘ dangerous shop owner who dared to look on her eternal beauty…"

Key in hand, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such saucy force out that I went read/write head over heals, rolling across its surface, and landing on the other side of meat upon my metrical unit. Her soft gasp and laughter saltation in those eyes continued when I gave a rebuff, clumsy and completely ill-chosen bow with a locution of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One affair I can say about myself is that when I make a complete fool of self in any berth, I do it in dramatic style and flash. As they say, if you're going to louse up something, do it completely and crap it worth the coming embarrassment.

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

"Jasmine,"she said.

"If I may testify you where the changing elbow room are located ?"

Trying to keep up a professional and self-respecting composure I set out for the corner of the entrepot, a sheer long walk of life of about XL or so ft. 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 English, close enough to let me smack the sweet aroma she wears ; something akin to cinnamon and honey flux with rose flower petal. I followed her movement into the changing room, especially noticing the gentle swaying of her hip joint and the bounce of her bottom…until she turned to fill up the threshold and gave me a coy smile with a wink.

Reaching out to steady myself on a cloths rack, stunned by this bit of flirt on her part, I missed and once again got introduced to the fine concept of gravity and the impact upon the floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this especial gloaming ; however, the wallop did bounce the cloth rack just enough to cause it to fall over upon me, and the one just across the gangway from it, and the sight of books upon each one as well…

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

Thankfully being of distinctly Male heritage, I have inherited the traditional, hard boned, concrete dense pass to the highest degree of my ancestor possessed. So it comes in quite W. C. Handy, such as the crashing of material wheel and Word of God onto said principal, in preventing my premature extinguishing from this lifetime.

As I pulled myself out from the carnage of wear and books I heard the soft chuckle of Miss Jasmine, who looked out from the changing way ; a smile of amusement and rascality on her look, optic dancing with loving and attender laughter - not of scorn but actual amusement - one arm crossed over her white meat, the gown she has on holding to her shank by the barest of unchanging.

Just looking upon those hidden riches beneath her arm, the campaign of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly raise and crepuscle like a graceful dancer practicing a well known routine for lovesome up, made my brain flash into instant steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the article of clothing and books. Right now, this was the only way I could keep my mind off of her ; and the bulging reply my amatory desires have caused, threatening to pluck my britches asunder in the front…

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

right field, who in the world am I fooling ? I wanted to get a peak of her, and if at all potential her block off dead body. I mean, what do you expect, I'm a guy, and a nerdish eccentric person as well…

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

She had one foot raised onto the sitting professorship each changing way has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer E. B. White lacing ; decorated in the blueprint of heyday, ivy vines and singing bird in flight. It accentuated the coppery whole step of her cutis, hugging the curves of her honed musculus, sloping like a boxing glove over her foot and toes.
in by inch she moved it steadily up her halcyon legs, causing me to obtain in position from the wonderment of her every movement, knockout and flawlessness combining feminine grace and hidden strong point thick underneath if one bothered to look past the surface.

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

Oh well.

I'll just have to do that for next 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 fundament go forward, backward, or any which way ; same for my head and middle, the gray material between my ear kept screaming"drift ALERT ! hand brake nullification ORDERED ! KEEP female person IN vision ! AT ALL toll support FEMALE IN deal"

Now while this was going on, the more socially oriented, etiquette correct dowry of my mind kept up a yearn, whining, whimpering and pleading broadside ; over and over again, it kept emphasizing the inappropriateness of what the eternal sleep of my brainpower was driving me to do.

As it turned out, Miss Jasmine was fully aware of my presence ; a lot More than I had assumed just a here and now before. Sometimes a man can have his globe turned on its drumhead and not give a care at all ; and for me, this was one of those moments.

The stocking had just passed the flexure of her articulatio genus, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating smile of her enlightening smile. She gave her chief a svelte shake, one mixing mirth and obliterate signification as her hair danced around her face and mentum, then flowed like exquisitely silk that caressed the golden grain of her skin as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one side, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously elegant guided journey up the rest of her leg. missy Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few times, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to swirl fleshly patterns upon the stockings material, images of hearts and entwined existence, the symbolization of old for erotica and bonk expressed in the silent language of tease and seduction.

But those oculus, when they swept up to meet mine, the deepness of them glimmered as Twin universes unfolding to limitless depths ; dimensions of sensualism, gender, and the rawest of central fiery feminine forces on show 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 passel of her white meat hung full and free for me to stare upon. I gave up a monolithic gulp, its echo carrying across the computer memory and drawing a soft, luscious giggle from her that sent the two wondrous pile of vague delight to bouncing around. The nipples were fully erect, demanding that I close my mouth, unlock my learning ability and get in there to commence giving the sheer limits of endurable passion to miss Jasmine ; and to continue until she is screaming from the mountain tops, or I die from sheer exertion during the effort.

My rip was boiling with taken with desire, my manhood at the infrangible limits of its sift attempt ; the roar that filled my mental capacity demanded that I hurry on in an try to seduce her and consummate a family relationship right then and there.

I could opine that at any moment the fire alarms and smoke detectors would go off ; as I was consumed on the pip in body, creative thinker and soul from the tsunamis of primal lust and heat crashing and surging over my body and into the primaeval soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the scene of the firing section captain explaining to his chief :"He just erupted into flames and took out fifteen city mental block in the outgrowth ; though Miss Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

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

She turned slightly one more time and then knack over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silky melanize laced cloth here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one emplacement I know that drives womanhood into the tiptop of enraptured bliss and the depth of promised land when pleasured just right by someone…and then the cloth shifted just enough, deliberately done on her portion, to appropriate me to lay eyes on the mystifying depths of her womanhood.

She stood up to the demarcation line of her wonderful form ; stretching her helping hand high into the air, pulling the muscles of her abdomen taunt to show the unflawed perfection of each one in routine. Then with one arm behind her back, the early behind her neck opening, she altered her pose many metre over, shifting foot to fundament, side to side, all with the grace of a dancer in fill in restraint of her entire being.

My regard kept shifting between her and the reflection in the mirror ; my mental capacity in heroic overload as it kept demanding more and more remark from all of my senses ; with each pose, every subtle and out-and-out change in stance and display of swan like grace in movement, the images infused into my memory, branded there for all of time to come.

putt both of her men behind her cervix, turning her chest slightly to one side, she looked upon me and gave off a gilded smile that would send a million meg of men racing to carry forth her every deed of conveyance, and die happy to receive made such an effort.

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

"Uh, sorry Miss Jasmine, I did not get a line you the first time…"I belatedly said with level best 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 boldness in perfect humiliation for saying that to her, convinced the lease of the gown was now fully ended.

Can a man possibly micturate to a greater extent of a jester of himself than doing that ?

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very kind of you to say so ; not very many would leave such an honest, from the heart type of compliment. Most of the men and women I deal with in the business human race are as ruthless and relentless as a cloud of vipers in the thick of a killing craze,"she said.

"Vipers in a killing frenzy ?"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 attention to her in turn. Just the nod of one long acquainted with peril on a larger and much Thomas More lethal weighing machine than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My swig probably sent shockwaves across the entire city ; causing head teacher to move around in wonderment, write for a handful who would birth knowing looks on their faces, approaching the door of my shop at any moment, hands hidden in their trench coats…

So who would it be concerning Miss Jasmine and their reception in finding me staring at her feminine form of downright wonderment…

Would it be a terminal, not so friendly,"evening comrade"from the ‘ men in pitch blackness'of the KGB just before they use the silenced shooting iron to fill me full of jam and net my shop ? Or the ever effective, ruthless and unmerciful men of the mob ; having been sent by fille Jasmine's Godfather guardian, to"give Mr. Phillips his final examination farewell…"as my car, on the next turning of the kindling switch, erupts into a clump of fire and million sherd of metal tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her stateliness Secret Service, the ill-famed, double-oh's, who would do me in via a poison hotdog, cyanide in the soda, exploding fount pen. Oh I could see the conclusion one all too well in my defective aspiration of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the earphone, and need to bring a message down, I tell the individual on the other end,"just a minute and I will write this down,"I click the pen, and the explosion takes out the entire store and all for ten occlusion around while the operator calmly tells the other party on the phone"I am sorry, it appears your phone call has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between parted fingers, seeing the diffused little hornpout on her face while she spoke of these other dishonest people. It gave me the additional notion that they saw her as one of three things : straight competitor due to her beauty, a one time conquest in bed or a potential playmate and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to hear they treat you that way ; hopefully this nightdress will exchange their thinker, not to mention turn a few heads on someone as tremendous as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

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

She smiled a smile like the richest of bee's honey, teasingly running her tongue along her lips as she looked down at my manhood. The first glimmering trails of stew were commencing their journey down my brow, my cheeks flushing from terror filled heat, though she probably assumed it was generated for a unlike reason.

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

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

The very book I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the taradiddle of the British people captain of the twenty-fifth Regiment of Foot, the esteemed"King's Own Borderers,"who in the year 1869, made his last stand in the deserts and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to inquire, did she read the record book, watch a unfeigned tarradiddle the book is based upon…or is she a touch of some sort maybe that of the farseeing suffer Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any to a greater extent speculation had to waitress as I walked into the corner of my desk, the point jutting out in the build of a griffon delivering the replete, unyielding military force of wood directly upon my humanness, causing me to go crashing once again unto the earth, mewling like a kitten 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 fare into panorama. I hoped that she would want to rive the gown and several others, maybe even to become a sweetheart node for the shop.

Although that nightgown she has selected would hug her physique so tightly that one wrongfulness move would sunder it to the finest grade ; a sight any man and many women would enjoy to the good !

Oh how I could see it happening…

She starts walking up the aisle, her in high spirits heel doing their steady clip-clip-clip-clip with each pace she takes.

Her eubstance would set the nightie to gleaming in the light, swirling with the lazuline vapours and emerald Green River as a sea of chatoyant beauty ebbing and flowing ; her coxa swaying ever so gently from incline to side, causing her haircloth to bounce playfully where it sweeps down over her articulatio humeri, ending just above those wonderful white meat that strain for freedom underneath the fabric.

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

Then one whole tone results in the sudden tearing phone of cloth strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the material tears away from her trunk, from one side to the other, leaving her momentarily in stupor and disbelief at the betrayal it displayed ; leaving her breasts fully exposed, her exquisitely hourglass figure shown to the world, and those stockings and undergarments the only covering she has.

And then her smile widens as she stands there with one hand on her hip, arm knack at the articulatio cubiti, the other one playacting in her fuzz as she asks of me…

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

I snapped out of my reverie to see Jasmine standing in figurehead of the desk ; bent forward to enable a grand old vista 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 forth as my body becomes a pile of smoldering ashes as a instant ardor expanse me away into the afterlife.

paradise above that scrubs matched her in every way potential ; hugging her like a second gear cutis from her bosom to the eye of her thighs. How it kept from going into instantaneous bankruptcy of the material I could not realize, as there should be no room for any movement at all, let alone the soft and steady breathing she does, letting her heart rise and fall in such a way as to demand all men's attention instantly.

Putting her hands on hip, arms bent at the human elbow, she did a serial of tail and half turns for me to see the full outfit. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, bent at the genu, upon its airfoil, allowing me to see the hem of the gown give way to the copper tan of her skin until it flows under the sheer lace stocking.

Supporting herself on one arm, she leaned forward and touched my buttock with her free script, swirling the finger wind in dull circles and teasing spirals.

I could smell her perfume, the reckless commixture of eubstance application and shampoo for her hair swirling into the smell of the shop and the other clothing ; along with the leather financial backing of my old office chair.

"Mr. Phillip's how does the gown look on me ?"she asked one to a greater extent time.

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

"young lady Jasmine if there was a crown placed upon your head with one hundred finely cut, unflawed rhombus they would still blench when compared to the wonderment you present to my old, wear eyes."

She giggled in delight, bringing a rosiness of furthermost superfluity to my face.

The robe was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

I am really beaming my pants were still hidden by the desk, as the heartbeat she began caressing my cheek, my very manhood rose swiftly to the moment and hit its climax almost instantly. It would experience been number sphacelus for her to see my own cum staining section of my britches.

It's a respectable matter I do hold open a few stage set of extra clothing of my own here at the shop, including new underwear.


*************************
As it turned out, not as splendid as I had hoped ; for as it has become usual for me, old murphy and his most notorious of laws came home to roost.

Jasmine stood there, a wry face of disappointment on her fount, eyes downcast as she understood her available funds were just shy of the down payment and rental fees for the gown.

The divergence was very small, only a few clam, and I did not desire to leave out a letting or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her gist on that one gown, and I figured if I cut some slack, it would improve the odds of her becoming a repeat customer.

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

"Just remember, that the nightdress has to be back tonight ; by close fourth dimension ; and maybe we could…"I just stopped, amazed that I nearly asked her out on a date !

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

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

Her hired man flew up to compensate her mouth, which just hung open air in a silent, shocked pant of astonishment from my absolutely boldface and stupid query. Any moment now she will either storm out of the shop or slap me so hard I will be able to see over my rachis for the rest of my life…which could cause a few trouble with walking forward…

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

"Of course of action you can,"I said.

She pulled the Cash for the gown's rental out of her purse and bent over the desk to helping hand it to me, leaning in so secretive that she suddenly gave me a wad on the impudence 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 one-half circle on one toe, and strolled out of the shop ; I watched her every step and flow of her consistency until I crashed over the desk for the indorsement meter this day…not landing on my metrical foot, but into a barrelful 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 apprehensiveness of all men : The nutcracker maneuver.

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


*************************
The eternal sleep of the day was as formula as any before, i.e. BORING. Not that I should sound off, the news over the radio has been proclaiming over and over of a ‘ wonderfully strong 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 intact metropolis will be destroyed. Flooding tens of feet thick will go on in the first few instant ; while buildings will be burned by searing discharge of destructive lightning ; howling hint that will fill up you with the dread 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 quaternary time tonight as I turned the lights off, exit the shop and turn around to lock up the room access, the storm brews high disk overhead with the rumbling riposte of thunder echoing across the cities man made canon of brand and concrete. Flashes of Light come from the lamp posts as the barest of illumination they provide glint on and off, the brighter flashes of lightning mixing with the first falling of pelting from the nirvana to disgorge an eerie gleaming across the land between times of darkness.

For some reason I held my hired man from turning the key and looked over at the sidewalk near my car, I mean my car is not a great deal to look at, just an old, very beat up VW Bug, but its mine…and right next to it is that dingbat weatherman broadcasting go outside the radio post ( also across the street where my car is ).

He goes on and on and on about"…being live in the heart of the cataclysm of the century ; the winds are so fierce that I can barely hear myself think…'

Of course he is sedately sipping away on a cup of coffee between his ‘ desperate, peril filled broadcast in the fondness of the storm.'I just shake off my head at the sheer lip service and arrogance of such a man ; not to mention the fact he has most of the broadcast equipment upon the top and hood of MY BUG !

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

My car alarm goes"beep-beep-beep"just as a thundering flash of light filled the domain, the retort shattering many a windowpane up and down the block as I stand there taking in the visual sense before me…

The weatherman standing, smoldering microphone in his script, charred clothing hanging from his skeleton, while his eyes are alight in pure little terror as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering mass of twisted alloy and fifth wheel parts, victim of the acute series of lightning bolts that happen to hit at that second.

"blast, I guess I forgot to turn off the automobile destruct switch for my…"I had to smile as the weatherman howled in perfect terror and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a retentive walkway home in the rain, which is growing in intensity and hope I can explain to the insurance society of how another car went up in roll of tobacco due to a lightning strike…six in one calendar month now.

Turning back to the doorway, I reached for the key again, and enquire again about Miss Jasmine and the lofty old fool I have been played for…

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

She just stood in front of me trying to apologize for being recently while gasping for breathing space, the gown torture to hold on intact as her embrace heaved in and out at an alarming rate. It seems the car bringing her spinal column to the shop had broken down and she literally ran to the memory, trying to get back here in time. judgment you, the gown clings to her body like a indorse tegument, soaked through and through by the rainfall, allowing her heaving bosom to be seen in full detail, including those mammilla at complete aid, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

Holding the door 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 centre, lips spread in a smile as her clapper playfully licked and swirled over one of her digit held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her hips especially all right, keeping my attention fixed on her posterior as she headed for the changing room.

A band of leatherneck and their Sergeant, out jogging in the rain, completely uncaring for this fierce storm passed by and looked briefly at miss Jasmine with smiling and a quick succession of nods ; their sergeant declaring to the world"Men, now you know one reason we serve on the edge of exemption ; to allow such a lucky duet to have fun creating the next generation of Marines…'

I shook my head in disbelief and started to ill-use forward, amused by their video display of witticism ; only to have the canopy over the threshold split open and ditch gal of dead ice cold rain 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 give her the key to the changing room. I did manage to witness a eubstance 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 diffused, melodious tattle as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the garbage I need to mete out with tomorrow sunrise. I put it in the usual categories of"pain-in-the-tush debris"to the ‘ I-really-don't-need-this-stress-in-my-life-junk"and the ever deliver"OH-NO-IT'S-THE-IRS junk."I even took the sentence to stop my e-mails and saw nothing of importance among them : just the usual complaint about my VW hemipteron constantly drawing lightning down into the area and an inquiry from the radio receiver place of the positioning of their weatherman.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that tuneful voice. I have no idea how long Miss Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my business. But when I looked up, I almost had a middle attack on the stain. My brain melted away, off-white became mush and muscles just sagged in the revelation before me.

She had placed the pixilated nightie off to one side of my desk, and next to that is her own knit gown she had on earlier this day. Her purse was on that scrubs, and atop it laid her luxuriously dog and unmentionable. Those sheer white stockings were the entirely thing else on as she stood there, smiling, hands on her pelvic arch and one leg slightly crossed in figurehead of the other.

Oh my stars !

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

Her coppery cheeks shined in the light, enhanced by the smile of her mouth, those blue eyes dancing with a raw commixture of sense of humor and awakened desire. Her raven pilus hung across those mulct shoulder, ending just above the pair of breasts so large and fine that any man would be lofty to suffocate between them with a grand old smile of delectation on his face.

Her other paw lay on her hip, legs set to back up her airs as a model for a photo shoot would accept ; the same pose that allowed me a full frontlet view of her denude womanhood !

My meat went to pounding so dissipated I had to question if those earthquake measuring machines were registering the consequence. I imagined the full block must be slowly shaking to small-arm, so backbreaking 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 believe this was going on right hand here and now.

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

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

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

"You said you wanted to have some fun, so that is what I am going to do ; a softwood is a quite a little 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 out of doors and I am here with a dame that most men could only dream of having nearby, let alone having anything occurring between them !

My judgment raced at the mystery of how a lot she has planned for the two of us tonight…

I can hardly wait to bump out…

She came over to the back of my desk, eased down across it on her stomach and looked back over her articulatio humeri at me with the biggest grin I have ever seen on a gentlewoman. Her stage shifted slightly, bending into the air at the stifle as I got a clear sight of her bare womanhood. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a third time before rolling over onto her cover, grasping her knees to embrace with her hands.

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

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

With one finger she motioned for me to come closer.

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

I gave out a little squeaking strait and scooted my chair finisher to her.

Jasmine moved one hand upward, her fingers gently touching my face, moving in a inward spiral only to reverse direction and replicate the form twice more, drawing a heated kick to my face ; my breath was beginning to sound like a broken holloa, raspy and heated, as the fervidness of desire stoked gamey and higher in my body.

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

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

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my chin and jaw, then my lips in replicate roach with a teasing probe of my spit. 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 nose and across my brow, then covering my ear.

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


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

Her osculation was one of pure ardor and lightning ; surging across each and every character of my body. I could feel the travail beginning to appear on my skin, my manhood rising in wide-cut to the moment, as on my lips the salty appreciation of her own flowed and measured, bringing a refined mouthful that conflate with the strawberry mark flavored lip rouge she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my Earth crash in on it, heaven has been achieved ! ! !

Then she planted that fiery, mania filled, electrifying sec osculation, followed by a 3rd, and even a fourth ; each one redoubling the volume of the preceding kiss.

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

Her giggling intensified when my hands reached up and encompassed those wonderful titty, shortly to stroke and knead so gently the nipple and figure wherever I could get through. They felt so easygoing, fond and wondrous to my signature ; her centre closed, cervix arching slightly as she braced her hands - one on the desk, the other moving from my cervix to my shoulder.

I heard a small, contented sigh pas her lips.

I started to kiss her neck, taking great delight in the taste of her skin ; a mixture of scents arising of her perfume and personal smells ; along with that from her earlier dinner - very well steak with sauce, grilled vegetable, and the ripe odor of clover and vinegar from a side dish of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to start kissing my neck with such force I imagined there would be lip scar well into the side by side month. I could feel the warmth of her quickening breath, the fervidness edifice in her body from the attention given to her soundbox and breasts.

Once again she turned back to my desk, leaning back until one leg was moving along the leg of my trouser ; up and down, circling and teasing, touching and stroking. She kept licking her lips as this happened, puckering and nibbling on them ; as she gave that oh-so-innocent expression on her face, while her eye danced with defection of all control over her electrocution passion.

When her invertebrate foot wound up stroking my manhood I thought I would flare up into fire. It was all that I could do to keep my manhood from pushing over the edge and hitting my release ; I did not want this fun to end any time soon.

That wild flak of her optic redoubled, and redoubled again ; I knew then and there I was doomed, and to be fair, I did not care.

bracing on one arm, she brought her other handwriting to her lip, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the fingers ; and then playfully sucking away as her eyes and smile enticed me into their profoundness. Then her hand commenced to move down her consistency, teasing set on her chest ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small dress circle and spirals she executes, the nipples firmly at attention and then some. She brings each one up to her lips, sucking and licking them gently, centre locked upon me with a message that the fun was about to pass a new tier of intensity.

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

I moved my chair in as nigh as I could to her, lifting both of her wooden leg up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to osculate her encourage and encourage upwards toward her pelvis. She lay back, centre closing once again as I drew closer to her woman ; intimation becoming sundry with soft cooing and mouse like squeaks, lips being gnawed on as desires mixed and flowed, hands covering her mouthpiece as the finger made sonant ballock, only to eject and tighten again moments later.

I commenced to gently blow soft puffs of air onto her second joint, alternating incline to side, generating small ripples of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within reach of her almost individual of areas, one puff followed another, causing her to wriggle and trip the light fantastic toe about while a fountain of giggled and squeals erupted past her lips ; handwriting covering up the growing blush on her glistening skin.

When my tongue slid within those magical profoundness, savoring the perceptiveness of flesh and motley of grain, the estrus of her body and odour mixing one into another with the yard of a coursing river, her hips swayed about, back arching to the celestial sphere and her men flying down to grab my head, firmly holding me in place.

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

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

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

As my relief reached the out of sight region oceanic abyss within, that one location bringing maximum pleasure to all women, she thrust one leg straight out against the unit of shelf I use for record storehouse ; it promptly collapsed into a bus of wreckage with a crash both of us ignored.

More and more my exploration and succour flowed into a series of letter mode across the alphabet and varying in speed and force ; I just wanted now and always to draw every ounce of wonderment and passion I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving soberness briefly in command of my destiny until the floor rushed up to smack solidly into my organic structure ; the chair rolled with some force backwards, bouncing off the paries and into a nearby cloths single-foot, which promptly toppled over into another, and a string reaction commenced across the store…half the racks collapsing or toppling over by the time it ended.

As I climbed back up to my knees, looking at the talk destruction, then back to her, she giggled and covered her sass with one deal, giving off a soft"Oops !"

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

She got up off the desk and stood there for a hour not saying anything. I finally climbed up, figuring the mood was done for - the destruction of a shop can stimulate that effect on a dark of intimate body process between two people…

"well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the next words out of my backtalk other than as a mixture of squeals and roll as she moved up flop next to me, one hand pressing the low of my back while the early slid down my britches, and commenced to knead my humanity along its full area ( with the smallish size that is of course not saying much ).

I just looked at her with a sheepish smile on my font as her ministration threatened to institutionalize me into instant and complete nuclear meltdown.

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

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

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

Her handwriting came back to keep on their joyous succor of my manhood, each move sending a series of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying aesthesis into my wit. My middle felt like they would cross over to the former socket and cover right out of my ears, which had to make pot bellowing out in pillar for anyone to sense and see.

It took every bit of control I had left to celebrate from hitting my button then and there ; especially when those cushy lips closed about it, the warmth of her mouth adding More and Thomas More to my own as she teased away upon it. I heard and felt my breathing becoming deeper and faster, the strait of a bellows being driven by a windstorm would go tame in comparison !

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

The room felt like it was spinning round and round, the sound of the rainfall and counter of lightning trembling and quaking the building ; lights 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.

motion by move, moment by second she kept me right on the boundary, until she sensed I could take hold back no more and quickly lay over the desk on her stomach.

With no waver I slid my manhood deep into her soundbox, feeling the house holds of her muscles, the warmth of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to make the apogee lastly as long as possible for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a period was hit in which my organic structure started to agitate and tremor, the entire waves of pleasance reaching new heights.

My roars of cacoethes 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 language of Hindi, then again in another - I assumed sidesplitter of pleasure and intense passionate feelings that must be flowing through her at that moment.

Then she shouted out to me, loud and crystallize :

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

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

O.K. it was more like a howler of an airplane crossed with a go bad down washer.

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a third time my vent hit, sending my biography seed rich into her body.

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

Jasmine hit her release at the Saame moment as my own, her dead body having shook with such power and exhilaration that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a quick grab by me, arms around her shank and chest kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a smile of contentment and wonderment on her face. For a mo her gaze went downward to her thigh, which I saw had a trace of my life seed mixed with her going flowing downward.

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

I saw the exculpate worry in her centre, the anticipation of some outrageous quantity, or some kind of outburst on my part.

"I don't know ; my insurance policy should cover most of it, just going to take a few days to get everything back in one patch before I can open again. All of that business being lost will be a problem with my notice coming due in the next calendar week or so,"I had to throw off my head as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me make a quick call…"she went to her purse and stood there, debating with person on the former end of her jail cell phone ; mind you she was still in her natal day 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 mother will cover everything that needs fixing and your business losses ; her secretary Miss Shannon will be here in the morning to urinate an initial estimate with you."

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

Or will the Godmother simply take it be the usual - cementum place and irons, then a brief car ride to the wharf and into the sea I go…

"Oh I forgot to tell you, she is the diplomatic emissary to the UN down the street for India,"she showed me her own diplomatic pass that confirmed the chronicle. I just kept shaking my psyche in unbelief ; it's a lot forged than her being the girl of a Mafia Godmother !

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

I looked at the door, expecting her bodyguards or assassin dispatched by her mother to get along in and sweep her away to safe, while reducing me and my workshop to a flock of smoldering kindling after introducing me to all manner of delightful tortures to subtle and hideous to contemplate…

Her gentle, bubbling laughter snapped me back to the here and now. Obviously she gets my kind of reaction with a lot of normal people."Mr. Phillips my female parent does not have the great unwashed ‘ taken aid of'like in those softheaded moving picture you American love so very 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 fashion bacchanalia of 1969'and thoroughly enjoyed myself."

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

"Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my constituent, I will not only tell apart my supporter to come in here for the best gown around ; I will come by each night and bed you, for as long as you want, as many fourth dimension each night that you want, and you can cum inside me. How does that sound Mr. Phillip's ?"she asked.

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


( fin. )