“ The high temperature wave shimmered in the aloofness, inexorably rising off the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin in an unmerciful show of female parent Nature's authority. My Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the horns could be heard, the horns signaling the start of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall miss my dearest Princess Jasmine, the silky smooth texture of her fair skin, and the rim that pulsate with fiery walking on air whenever they so, so gently pressing against my brass. Oh how I can still find the heat of her breath upon my skin, the gentle picnic coming from the smiling lips and her nose…

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

As the enemy troop closed, a sea of human race, shouting and crying for our expiry, many bearing siege ladders to descale the bulwark, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few bearing sword or prospicient knives. In an instant I shouted for my men to get ready and to displace at will after the call is given…

Then we waited until the tide swept into range…

"fervor, ardour, fire, for your very lives and for God and King ardor FOR issue this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a din of noise and Mary Jane as sword shot flowed out tearing asunder our enemies, with each one who fell replaced by ten to a greater extent ever closing the length. Soon the dunes of grit, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with deep rich red from the shatter world before us ; and soon our own would be mix in as well.

"fight well my boys,"the old Colonel, Handel, stubborn, dower, gruff and as sociable as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the hollering of shot and scale of carom and trench mortar coming into the metropolis."engagement well my boys, and sell yourselves as dearly as you can…"

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

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

"Oh Brother,"I just declared with an exasperated suspiration, my middle rolling to the heavens at the sheer routine of error in the"factual bases romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a love affair between a British Captain of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the take to be"King's Own Borderers,"and his lady love, a true princess from Bharat, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the book with a flashy snap of my script, debating for a short time of consigning it to either the trash can or saving it for kindling at the adjacent 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 workshop, in this lawsuit I rent clothing, tuxedos, robe and all the stuff that goes along with them. This is in plus to being a belittled shipment stock with a range of clause from the regular, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still throw off my pass each time I gaze upon the suit of roman armor on the mannikin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own short dowry of the world, the grotesque, and hopefully, to be renowned one of these days,"Phillip's Fabulous fashion,"run by, of course, Phillip ( me ). It's a nice, little, rundown and beaten up structure, with a neon sign outside that works near of the time ; though I have to admit, that little mobile phone tug on the roof is a bit of an aggravator, as every workweek or two, when a violent storm comes in, it gets hit by a bolt of lightning or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of problem with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily say the shot you are envisioning, a lone man, drilling and average in his own rightfulness, dealing with a boring computer memory, and boring customers, whose routine is the Lapplander day in and day out. A very uncomplicated, steady, and routine job and life, in which there is only one mutual denominator the owner has to deal with :

MIND suppression BOREDOM ! ! !

All too true for the well-nigh function, yet once in a cracking while, as with last night, something comes along and sprain my piddling boring Earth on its head, and life is then never the same…as last night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

William Tell you what, let me just set out from the beginning, and save oil production you to death…


======
I was reading my latest oral communication book to trying to study Hindi ; both feet 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 prison term for my encephalon to register the fact that, after several minute of inaction, a customer has come into the shop ; clearly indicated by the diffuse, trenchant ding-ding-ding of the alarm on the door.

The clear, decided and consistent clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of high school dog, did not fully register as they closed on my position. The mild, curved and quite attentive fantasm of my client, blocking part of the command processing overhead time lighting, still had not penetrated the depths of my I. F. Stone slow cerebral matter.

"apology me sir, but I wish to try this one on,"a diffuse, cultured, and melodic vocalization stated.

look over the border of my Quran I was greeted by a sight that took my breathing time away !

She could have been a aliveness goddess who deigned to descend unto the earth and walk among mortals. Oh for some reasons the Heaven have become most king to me this evening ; or the door to the depth of Hades have opened, and my eonian end of the world and damnation is fully at hand. Only a being from another world or reality could liken to this expression of living stunner, a reliable avatar on earth, which deems me worthy for a bare moment of her attention…

Just about five and a half fundament in height, lithe and curved in all the correctly places, she stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding a hanger on which hung one of the robe for letting. The sheer beaut of her dismal eyes, coppery tegument and pearly teeth was accentuated by the fine, easygoing, silken black fuzz that seemed to dance with life of its own.

She was clad in a simpleton, cream colored, spaghetti strap dress, the patrician trim of flowered patterns in deep blueing and vibrant loss ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and knees. It clung to her dead body like a second layer of skin, showing off each sensuous configuration of her flowing feminine form, the nipples of her boob were visible through the cloth, 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 gown shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a ancestry thought of her partially revealed breasts…my eyes, then caput, and the rest of my body moved to keep that view in plenty, following along like one hooked upon a billet by the bait of choice, knowing your own doom is at hand…

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

…until I finally tipped too far in the chair, crashing to the floor when my escort with gravity committed me to a meeting with the hard concrete level ; so swiftly did this happen that the lady before me only had a mo to show the fact, a flabby, musical gasp passing her lips as her free manus shot up to cover it, eyes wide in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the base, reaching my deal up to get the picture the desk's sharpness. So far I am not making much of a first belief with the young peeress ; and now I need to get back to a proper state of matter of nous and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my grip on the desk only brought a pile of stacked Word by the edge crashing down with full, legal brief, and brutal sounding impact upon my concrete dense top dog.

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

Finally standing up, I gazed upon that brilliant smile, now grinning all-inclusive and partially hidden behind her one hired hand, and felt my warmness charging into overdrive and my line of descent building up in temperature while my throat went drier than the Sahara Desert.

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

She handed it to me so I could look into the tag number on it ; mind you, I never check the number on the gowns, as each one is unique ; it's just that, with her, I wanted to have any alibi to be just a bit closer to her presence.

As for the night-robe she has selected ?

It is a wondrous, strapless and shoulderless gown of shimmering emerald green mixed with cerulean blues, with train of thought of halcyon flowers, gabardine fowl and ash gray clouds woven into the fabric. I could just imagine what it would calculate like on her, and wound up gulping for a second so I could breathe once again.

right wing now, I imagine the world disc for ‘ clueless imbecile'has just been broken.

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

All I could think of at this moment is how a lot of an overplus I must be to the world ; here she is, a rare gem of the human race in my shop, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a niche of a yard by her escort, then tied to a tree or post as one stands off to the side declaring for his fellow to get their guns ready…

Then with a savage gleam in his expression, center glowing from behind darkened dark glasses, he declares to them in play,"Aim low gentlemen, his manhood first and work your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the rack of tonality, searching for the one to the changing way. My capitulum kept cartroad of all sounds, while my creative thinker generated all manner of ghostly commandos entrance, hopping like silent end around the racks and stands of garments toward me with swift destruction in their hands, their delegation to rescue the lady from the ‘ dangerous shop proprietor who dared to look on her eternal beauty…"

Key in script, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such godless force-out that I went head over heals, rolling across its control surface, and landing on the other side upon my ft. Her mild gasp and laugh dance in those optic continued when I gave a slight, clumsy and completely inapt bow with a verbalism of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One thing I can say about myself is that when I make a consummate fool of self in any post, I do it in spectacular manner and flash. As they say, if you're going to botch something, do it completely and attain it worth the coming embarrassment.

"Here is your key Miss…ah, oh beloved ; 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 maintain a professional and dignified equanimity I set out for the nook of the computer storage, a sheer long walk of about forty or so understructure. 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 out the sweet perfume she wears ; something akin to cinnamon and honey mixed with rose petals. I followed her movement into the changing way, especially noticing the assuage swaying of her hips and the bounce 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 textile single-foot, stunned by this bit of flirt on her component, I missed and once again got introduced to the amercement concept of gravitational force and the encroachment upon the trading floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this especial fall ; however, the impingement did reverberate the textile rack just enough to stimulate it to devolve over upon me, and the one just across the aisle from it, and the great deal of books upon each one as well…

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

Thankfully being of distinctly virile inheritance, I have inherited the traditional, heavily boned, concrete dense pass most of my ascendent possessed. So it comes in quite William Christopher Handy, such as the crashing of fabric rack and books onto said point, in preventing my premature experimental extinction from this lifetime.

As I pulled myself out from the carnage of wearable and book I heard the soft chuckle of miss Jasmine, who looked out from the changing room ; a smile of amusement and mischief on her fount, eye dancing with loving and pinnace laughter - not of scorn but echt amusement - one arm crossed over her breasts, the gown she has on holding to her waist by the barest of static.

Just looking upon those hidden riches beneath her arm, the front of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly rise and fall like a elegant dancer practicing a well known routine for warm up, made my brain flash into exigent steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the clothing and Good Book. Right now, this was the only way I could keep on my thinker off of her ; and the bulging response my amorous desires have caused, threatening to shoot my britches asunder in the front…

One by one I straightened the shelves of shoe, wear 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 block dead body. I mean, what do you expect, I'm a guy, and a nerdish geek as well…

As I passed the changing room, the door was partially opened, and revealed a pot that would have turned any man into instant ashes as the fire of luxuria 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 T. H. White lace ; decorated in the patterns of flowers, ivy vines and singing fowl in flight. It accentuated the coppery tone of her peel, hugging the bender of her honed muscles, sloping like a glove over her foot and toes.
Inch by inch she moved it steadily up her golden leg, causing me to hold in position from the wonder of her every motion, stunner and perfection combining womanly seemliness and hidden effectiveness late underneath if one bothered to seem past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a wonder ; a nerds dreaming come confessedly is here before me and I just stand there like a complete idiot. I never got around to installing those television security measures cameras in the changing suite as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

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

======
Her motility with the stocking go forward upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to keep moving, but my brain refused to let my groundwork go forward, backward, or any which way ; same for my header and eyes, the grayish material between my capitulum kept screaming"move ALERT ! exigency OVERRIDE ORDERED ! bread and butter female person IN visual sense ! AT ALL COSTS bread and butter female person IN heap"

Now while this was going on, the more socially oriented, etiquette correct helping of my judgement kept up a foresighted, whining, whimpering and pleading tirade ; 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 comportment ; a lot more than I had assumed just a moment before. Sometimes a man can give his globe turned on its head and not founder a care at all ; and for me, this was one of those moments.

The stocking had just passed the bend of her knee, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating grinning of her enlightening smile. She gave her head teacher a tenuous trill, one mixing gleefulness and conceal import as her hair's-breadth danced around her cheeks and chin, then flowed like fine silk that caressed the golden texture of her peel as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one English, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously refined guided journey up the rest of her leg. Miss Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few times, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to purl sultry convention upon the stockings material, images of hearts and entwined organism, the symbolization of old for pornography and love expressed in the silent language of tantalization and seduction.

But those oculus, when they swept up to meet mine, the depths of them glimmered as twin universes unfolding to limitless depths ; proportion of sensualism, sexuality, and the rawest of primal fiery feminine forces on display to anyone wishing to dare and ill-treat over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, movement drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering mass of her breast hung total and unfreeze for me to stare upon. I gave up a massive gulp, its ring carrying across the entrepot and drawing a delicate, luscious giggle from her that sent the two wondrous pitcher of undefined pleasance to bouncing around. The nipples were fully erect, demanding that I close my mouth, unlock my brain and get in there to get giving the absolute limits of endurable love to girl Jasmine ; and to continue until she is screaming from the heap spinning top, or I die from sheer exertion during the effort.

My blood was boiling with enamored desire, my humanness at the rank limits of its strained efforts ; the thunder that filled my brain demanded that I hurry on in an campaign to make her and consummate a relationship right hand then and there.

I could think that at any moment the fire dismay and smoke detectors would go off ; as I was consumed on the spot in body, mind and soulfulness from the tsunamis of primal lust and heat crashing and surging over my dead body and into the aboriginal soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the scene of the flack department master explaining to his gaffer :"He just erupted into fire and took out xv city blocks in the process ; though Miss Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

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

She turned slightly one more clip and then bent over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silken black laced fabric here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one positioning I know that drives women into the heights of ecstatic bliss and the depths of enlightenment when pleasured just right by someone…and then the fabric shifted just enough, deliberately done on her part, to allow me to lay eyes on the secret astuteness of her womanhood.

She stood up to the terminus ad quem of her wonderful mannikin ; stretching her bridge player high into the air, pulling the muscular tissue of her abdomen taunt to usher the flawless idol of each one in turn. Then with one arm behind her back, the other behind her neck, she altered her pose many sentence over, shifting foot to foot, side to side, all with the free grace of a dancer in complete control of her intact being.

My gaze kept shifting between her and the musing in the mirror ; my genius in desperate overburden as it kept demanding more and more input from all of my senses ; with each mannerism, every subtle and absolute change in posture and display of swan like gracility in motion, the persona infused into my memory, branded there for all of metre to come.

putt both of her hands behind her neck, turning her chest of drawers slightly to one English, she looked upon me and gave off a grand smile that would transport a million millions of men racing to carry forth her every deed, and die happy to give birth made such an effort.

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

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

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

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

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

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very variety of you to say so ; not very many would give such an honest, from the heart and soul character of compliment. near of the men and women I deal with in the business worldly concern are as ruthless and relentless as a swarm of vipers in the midst of a killing fury,"she said.

"Vipers in a killing hysteria ?"I softly inquired of from Miss Jasmine.

She just nodded, not the nod of one trying to restrain another ; nor that of dissuading a man from paying any attention to her in play. Just the nod of one long acquainted with danger on a larger and much more lethal scale than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My draught probably sent shockwaves across the entire city ; causing heads to turn in wonderment, redeem for a handful who would let knowing looks on their faces, approaching the door of my shop at any present moment, hands hidden in their trench coats…

So who would it be concerning missy Jasmine and their response in finding me staring at her womanly anatomy of out-and-out wonderment…

Would it be a last, not so friendly,"eve Comrade"from the ‘ men in black'of the KGB just before they use the hush up pistol to fill me full of maw and sack my shop ? Or the ever effective, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by Miss Jasmine's Godfather protector, to"grant Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the next turning of the ignition switching, erupts into a testis of fire and million fragments of metallic element tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her Majesties mystery service of process, the notorious, double-oh's, who would do me in via a poisoned dog, nitrile in the tonic, exploding fountain pen. Oh I could see the last one all too well in my bad ambition of terror…

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

I looked at her from between break up finger, seeing the piano petty pout on her face while she spoke of these other dishonest people. It gave me the additional belief that they saw her as one of three things : true rival due to her beauty, a one time subjugation in bed or a potential playfellow and girl-toy.

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

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

She smiled a smile like the richest of bee's dear, teasingly running her tongue along her brim as she looked down at my humanness. The first glimmer lead of sweat were commencing their journey down my frontal bone, my boldness flushing from terror filled hotness, though she probably assumed it was generated for a different reason.

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

"Your welcome Miss Jasmine, Thomas More than welcome,"I headed back to my desk, wondering just how practically trouble I have stumbled into tonight ; and listened to her singing a subdued, haunting melody in the nomenclature of India, beautiful as a dreaming and as longing as a story told…

The very book I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the fib of the British Captain of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the esteemed"King's Own Borderers,"who in the year 1869, made his death standpoint in the deserts and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to wonder, did she read the Good Book, acquire a dead on target tale the script is based upon…or is she a spectre of some form maybe that of the tenacious bewildered Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any More speculation had to expect as I walked into the corner of my desk, the head jutting out in the shape of a griffon delivering the full, unyielding force of Natalie Wood directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the ground, mewling like a kitten as my heart crossed over.

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



*********************
backrest at my desk I just fidgeted with the paperwork, all of it done long ago as I waited for Jasmine to come in into purview. I hoped that she would need to rent the night-robe and several others, maybe even to turn a steady customer for the shop.

Although that gown she has selected would hug her material body so tightly that one amiss move would sunder it to the ok point ; a sight any man and many adult female would enjoy to the wide-cut !

Oh how I could see it happening…

She starts walking up the gangway, her richly dog doing their becalm clip-clip-clip-clip with each step she takes.

Her body would set the night-robe to gleaming in the light, swirling with the sapphire blues and emerald commons as a sea of iridescent beauty ebbing and flowing ; her hip swaying ever so gently from side to side, causing her haircloth to bounce playfully where it sweeps down over her shoulder, ending just above those grand breasts that strain for freedom underneath the fabric.

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

Then one step event in the sudden tearing sound 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 shock and mental rejection at the betrayal it displayed ; leaving her white meat fully exposed, her fine hourglass figure shown to the earth, and those stockings and undergarments the lonesome covering she has.

And then her grin widens as she stands there with one hand on her hip, arm set at the articulatio cubiti, the other one performing in her whisker as she asks of me…

"apology me Mr. Phillips, how do you opine it looks on me ?"

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

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

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

My heart felt like it would instantly explode as my consistence becomes a pile of smoldering ashes as a twinkling fire sweep me away into the afterlife.

Heavens above that scrubs matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a endorsement skin from her embrace to the middle of her thighs. How it kept from going into instant failure of the material I could not understand, as there should be no room for any movement at all, let alone the balmy and brace ventilation she does, letting her bosom rise and fall in such a way as to demand all men's attention instantly.

Putting her hands on hips, arms bent at the elbows, she did a series of quarter and half turns for me to see the entire kit. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, bent at the human knee, upon its surface, allowing me to see the hem of the gown give way to the copper tan of her cutis until it flows under the sheer lace stocking.

Supporting herself on one arm, she leaned forward and concern my boldness with her innocent deal, swirling the finger baksheesh in slow circles and teasing spirals.

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

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

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

"girl Jasmine if there was a tip placed upon your oral sex with one hundred finely cut, flawless diamonds they would still pale when compared to the wonderment you present to my old, tired eyes."

She giggled in delight, bringing a hot flash of uttermost embarrassment to my face.

The nightdress was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

I am really glad my pants were still hidden by the desk, as the second she began caressing my cheek, my very manhood rose swiftly to the consequence and hit its climax almost instantly. It would give birth been add up humiliation for her to see my own cum staining part of my britches.

It's a near thing I do keep a few sets of supererogatory 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 spud and his most infamous of police force came home to roost.

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

The divergence was very small, only a few one dollar bill, and I did not require to miss a rental or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her affectionateness on that one gown, and I figured if I cut some slack, it would improve the betting odds of her becoming a repetition customer.

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

"Just remember, that the nightie has to be back tonight ; by completion prison term ; and maybe we could…"I just stopped, amazed that I nearly asked her out on a particular date !

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

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

Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, which just hung open in a silent, shocked gasp of astonishment from my absolutely bold and stupid person query. Any moment now she will either force out of the shop or slap me so hard I will be able to see over my binding for the eternal sleep of my life…which could cause a few problems with walking forward…

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

"Of course you can,"I said.

She pulled the hard currency for the night-robe's rental out of her pocketbook and set over the desk to hand it to me, leaning in so unaired that she suddenly gave me a raft on the cheek followed by a smile.

"Thank you Mr. Phillip's, when I get back tonight we shall see how a lot 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 body until I crashed over the desk for the second time this day…not landing on my feet, but into a drum bankroll that ended in a rack of cloths.

Thankfully the falling metal crossbar that made up the distance of the rack missed my head and abdomen ; though as it crashed down upon my chestnut tree, I understood once again the classical apprehensiveness of all men : The Nutcracker maneuver.

acerate leaf to say, nearly of the few other customers I had that evening wondered why my vocalization was so squeaky.


*************************
The eternal rest of the day was as rule as any before, i.e. boring. Not that I should sound off, the tidings over the radio has been proclaiming over and over of a ‘ wonderfully secure storm."

The weather forecaster kept describing it with bask :"This storm is to be one so hefty that it will rival that of the disaster of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the stallion urban center will be destroyed. Flooding tens of invertebrate foot deep will occur in the first off few min ; while building will be burned by searing arcs of destructive lightning ; howling breaking wind that will fill you with the dreadful cry of a banshee on the moorland before they pick you up and fling you naut mi into the air for a ivory smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the fourth time tonight as I turned the luminosity off, exit the shop and turn around to lock the room access, the violent storm brews mellow smash with the rumbling retort of thunder echoing across the metropolis man made canyons of brand and concrete. news bulletin of light come from the lamp posts as the barest of miniature they provide flicker on and off, the brighter flashes of lightning mixing with the first falling of rainwater from the heavens to chuck an eerie luminescence across the Din Land between times of darkness.

For some reason I held my hand from turning the key and looked over at the sidewalk near my car, I mean my car is not lots to look at, just an old, very thrum up VW Bug, but its mine…and right adjacent to it is that dingbat weatherman broadcasting live 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 calamity of the 100 ; the fart are so fierce that I can barely discover myself think…'

Of course he is calmly sipping away on a cup of deep brown between his ‘ desperate, risk filled broadcasts in the eye of the storm.'I just shake my head at the sheer lip service and lordliness of such a man ; not to observe the fact he has most of the program equipment upon the top and cowl of MY BUG !

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

My car alert goes"beep-beep-beep"just as a thundering flash of light filled the area, the retort shattering many a windowpane up and down the closure as I stand there taking in the mess before me…

The weatherman standing, smoldering microphone in his hand, charred article of clothing hanging from his material body, while his heart are alight in pure terror as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering quite a little of squirm metallic element and spare parts, victim of the intense serial of lightning dash that happen to hit at that minute.

"Blast, I guess I forgot to turn off the auto destruct switch for my…"I had to smile as the weatherman howled in consummate terror and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a yearn walk dwelling in the rainwater, which is growing in intensity and Hope I can explain to the indemnity party of how another car went up in smoke due to a lightning strike…six in one month now.

turning back to the door, I reached for the key again, and question again about Miss Jasmine and the imposing old sucker I have been played for…

Key in the door whorl, I prepared to turn it when I heard a feminine vocalization shouting out for me to hold on and the click-click-click-click of highschool heels closing as rapidly as their wearer could.

She just stood in front of me trying to apologize for being late while gasping for breather, the gown straining to save intact as her bosom heaved in and out at an alarming rate. It seems the car bringing her back to the shop had broken down and she literally ran to the stock, trying to get back here in meter. judgment you, the surgical gown clingstone to her body like a second skin, soaked through and through by the rain, allowing her heaving titty to be seen in to the full detail, including those nipples at perfect attention, 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 optic, rim spread in a smiling as her natural language playfully licked and swirled over one of her fingers held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her hip joint especially fine, keeping my attention fixed on her rump as she headed for the changing room.

A band of shipboard soldier and their police sergeant, out jogging in the rain, completely uncaring for this violent tempest passed by and looked briefly at miss Jasmine with smile and a straightaway succession of nods ; their Sergeant declaring to the universe"Men, now you know one reason we serve on the edge of freedom ; to allow such a lucky couple to have fun creating the next contemporaries of Marines…'

I shook my head in incredulity and started to step forward, amused by their display of humor ; only to have the canopy over the door split open and garbage dump gallons of perfectly ice cold rainwater 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 grapple to find a body towel for her to dry off with as well ; explaining it's a gift for her due to the weather.

I just sat at my desk, listening to her soft, melodic vocalizing as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the drivel I need to cover with tomorrow morning. I put it in the usual class of"pain-in-the-tush debris"to the ‘ I-really-don't-need-this-stress-in-my-life-junk"and the ever present"OH-NO-IT'S-THE-IRS junk."I even took the time to chink my e-mails and saw nothing of grandness among them : just the usual complaint about my VW bug constantly drawing lightning down into the area and an inquiry from the receiving set station of the location of their weatherman.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodic interpreter. 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 heart blast on the spot. My brain melted away, bones became mush and muscle just sagged in the revelation before me.

She had placed the soaked nightgown off to one side of my desk, and future to that is her own knit gown she had on earlier this day. Her purse was on that gown, and atop it laid her high heel and unmentionable. Those downright egg white stockings were the just thing else on as she stood there, smiling, manus on her rosehip and one leg slightly crossed in strawman of the former.

Oh my sensation !

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

Her coppery cheeks shined in the light, enhanced by the smile of her sass, those juicy eyes dancing with a raw mixed bag of sense of humour and awakened desire. Her raven hairsbreadth hung across those fine shoulders, ending just above the pair of tit so bombastic and ok that any man would be proud to suffocate between them with a grand old grin of delight on his face.

Her other hand lay on her hip, legs set to patronage her pose as a mannequin for a picture shoot would presume ; the like pose that allowed me a fully frontage view of her bared womanhood !

My pump went to pounding so fasting I had to wonder if those earthquake measuring machines were registering the event. I imagined the intact occlusion must be slowly shaking to pieces, so intemperate and fasting 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 think this was going on rightfield here and now.

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

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

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

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

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

I can hardly waitress to find 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 magnanimous grin I have ever seen on a lady. Her legs shifted slightly, bending into the air at the knees as I got a crystalize purview of her naked fair sex. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a third time before rolling over onto her back, grasping her knees to bosom with her hands.

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

She swung up and around to interchange to being on her script and stifle while facing me.

With one finger she motioned for me to come closer.

I could see her knocker hanging down, moving ever so slightly with each action she undertook ; even swirling her head teacher around to send out hair's-breadth back over her shoulders made them bounce and jiggle, holding my interest like a frailty around a pipe.

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

Jasmine moved one hired hand upward, her fingers gently touching my face, moving in a inward whorl only to annul focal point and repeat the convention twice more, drawing a heated heyday to my case ; my breath was beginning to voice like a broken bellows, raspy and heated, as the fires of desire stoked gamy and higher in my body.

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

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

Ever so slowly she moved her fingertips over my mentum and jaw, then my lips in perennial circle with a teasing probe of my clapper. 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 bit of motion set my torso temperature eminent and in high spirits ; feeling like my body should vanish in a clap of steam that would consume me utterly.


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

Her buss was one of pure ardour and lightning ; surging across each and every vulcanized fiber of my body. I could finger the perspiration beginning to come out on my skin, my manhood rising in full-of-the-moon to the present moment, as on my back talk the salty taste of her own flowed and measured, bringing a tasteful penchant that mixed with the strawberry mark flavored lip rouge she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my domain collapse in on it, Nirvana has been achieved ! ! !

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

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

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

I heard a small, contented suspiration bye her lips.

I started to snog her neck, taking peachy delight in the taste of her tegument ; a miscellany of scents arising of her perfume and personal smells ; along with that from her earlier dinner party - amercement steak with sauce, grilled veg, and the advanced odor of clover and vinegar from a side saucer of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to start kissing my neck with such force I imagined there would be lip marks well into the next month. I could palpate the warmth of her quickening breath, the fires building in her body from the aid given to her dead body and breasts.

Once again she turned back to my desk, leaning back until one leg was moving along the leg of my trouser ; up and down, circling and teasing, touching and stroking. She kept licking her rim as this happened, puckering and nibbling on them ; as she gave that oh-so-innocent look on her nerve, while her eyes danced with abandonment of all ascendance over her burn passion.

When her understructure wound up stroking my manhood I thought I would break out into flames. It was all that I could do to proceed my manhood from pushing over the edge and hitting my expiration ; I did not want this fun to end any 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 other hand to her sass, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the fingers ; and then playfully sucking away as her eyes and smiling enticed me into their profoundness. Then her hand commenced to locomote down her body, teasing dress circle on her chest ; across each tit, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small circles and whorl she executes, the nipple firmly at attention and then some. She brings each one up to her lips, sucking and licking them gently, heart locked upon me with a subject matter that the fun was about to reach a new level of intensity.

I put my hands 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 privileged thigh. Where the material of her stocking gave way to flesh, I made for sure to redouble my cause, seeking each spot that would cause a shivering, quivering or giggle deriving bit of sense experience.

I moved my chair in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her legs up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to osculate her further and advance upwards toward her hip. She lay back, eye closing once again as I drew closer to her woman ; breath becoming mixed with diffuse cooing and mouse like close shave, lips being gnawed on as desires mixed and flowed, hands covering her mouth as the fingers made soft egg, only to unloose and reduce again moments later.

I commenced to gently brag soft puffs of air onto her second joint, alternating side of meat to side, generating small ripples of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within reach of her virtually private of expanse, one puff followed another, causing her to twist 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 perception of flesh and mixture of textures, the hotness of her body and smell mixing one into another with the pace of a coursing river, her pelvic arch swayed about, back arching to the heavens and her hands flying down to grab my head, firmly holding me in place.

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

For a mo I could see my gravestone, engraved upon its marble surface the words :

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

As my succor reached the hidden arena deep within, that one location bringing maximum pleasance to all women, she thrust one leg straight out against the social unit of shelf I use for record store ; it promptly collapsed into a heap of wreckage with a break up both of us ignored.

to a greater extent and more my geographic expedition and ministration flowed into a serial publication of letter styles across the ABC and varying in speed and force-out ; I just wanted now and always to draw every Panthera uncia of wonderment and Passion I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving sobriety briefly in dictation of my lot until the base rushed up to smack solidly into my body ; the electric chair rolled with some force play backwards, bouncing off the paries and into a nearby cloth stand, which promptly toppled over into another, and a range of mountains reaction commenced across the store…half the single-foot collapsing or toppling over by the clip it ended.

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

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

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

"wellspring Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the next words out of my mouth other than as a motley of squeals and pealing as she moved up right next to me, one manus pressing the lowly of my back while the other slid down my britches, and commenced to knead my manhood along its wide area ( with the smallish size that is of course not saying much ).

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

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

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

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

Her handwriting came back to continue their joyous relief of my manhood, each movement sending a serial of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying sensations into my mentality. My eyes felt like they would cross over to the former socket and continue mighty out of my ears, which had to have smoke bellowing out in columns for anyone to smell and see.

It took every bit of control I had left to hold on from hitting my release then and there ; especially when those soft 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 external respiration becoming deeper and faster, the auditory sensation of a hollo being driven by a windstorm would vocalize tame in comparison !

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

The room felt like it was spinning round and round, the sounds of the rain and retorts of lightning shaking and quaking the building ; spark flickering on and off with each close strike.

I felt like she was drawing what remained of my learning ability out of me ; one jail cell and nerve cell at a time.

motility by relocation, import by minute she kept me right field on the sharpness, until she sensed I could agree back no more and quickly lay over the desk on her stomach.

With no waver I slid my humanness deep into her body, feeling the firm holds of her muscular tissue, the warmth of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to make the closing in conclusion as long as possible for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a gunpoint was hit in which my trunk started to shake and tremor, the entire waves of pleasure reaching new heights.

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

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

Then she shouted out to me, meretricious and clear :

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

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

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

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a third time my acquittance hit, sending my life seeded player deep into her body.

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

Jasmine hit her waiver at the same instant as my own, her organic structure having shook with such force and excitement that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a quick snap by me, arms around her waist and chest of drawers kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a smile of contentment and admiration on her face. For a here and now her gaze went downward to her second joint, which I saw had a suggestion of my life history seed blend with her press release flowing downward.

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

I saw the cleared worry in her eye, the anticipation of some outrageous sum, or some form of flare-up on my part.

"I don't know ; my indemnity should cover to the highest degree of it, just going to look at a few days to get everything back in one piece before I can open again. All of that business organisation being lost will be a problem with my nib coming due in the following hebdomad or so,"I had to shake my caput as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me hold a speedy call…"she went to her purse and stood there, debating with someone on the early end of her cell headphone ; mind you she was still in her birthday causa, so I got a wonderful show of her every movement 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 handle everything that needs fixing and your business losses ; her repository fille Claude Shannon will be here in the sunup to make an initial idea with you."

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

Or will the Godmother simply have it be the usual - cementum shoes and chains, then a brief car ride to the dock and into the sea I go…

"Oh I forgot to say you, she is the diplomatic envoy to the UN down the street for India,"she showed me her own diplomatic pass that confirmed the narration. I just kept shaking my brain in incredulity ; it's much worse than her being the daughter of a Maffia Godmother !

Many, many metre unfit ! Her female parent is a diplomatist at the UN of all things ! ! !

I looked at the room access, expecting her escort or assassins dispatched by her mother to do in and embroil her away to condom, while reducing me and my shop to a galvanic pile of smoldering kindling after introducing me to all style of delicious agony to insidious and horrific 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 bear multitude ‘ taken caution of'like in those crazy pic you American language love so much ; too mussy. I stay out of that material when I can, I prefer the American way of having fun - tonight I went to an ‘ old fashion orgy of 1969'and thoroughly enjoyed myself."

"Oh and Mr. Phillip's I want to give thanks you for reading that book on your desk ; it's not the sound fiction in the world I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her smile was one of genuine deviltry, which let me know how fearful the al-Qur'an really reads.

"Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my part, I will not only state my Friend to come here for the best scrubs around ; I will come by each night and bed you, for as long as you want, as many times 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 head dwelling house for the night ; she mentioned in passing game that she will take some friends with her the succeeding eventide for our"fun"after the shop closes. I wondered if the building would even survive ; let alone be standing if another such night is held in the place…of course it would be fun to get hold out ! ! !


( fin. )