“ The heat waves shimmered in the aloofness, inexorably rising off the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin in an unmerciful display of Mother Nature's authority. My Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the trump could be heard, the French horn signaling the jump of another battle."

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

Oh how I shall miss my darling Princess Jasmine, the silky quiet texture of her just cutis, and the mouth that pulsate with ardent bliss whenever they so, so gently public press against my cheek. Oh how I can still finger the heat of her breath upon my skin, the gentle breeze coming from the smiling lip 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 walls crenellation ; each one held the look of a man who knows that before the day is done, they will suffer in assessment before He who watches over all of us on earth.

As the enemy troops closed, a sea of humanity, shouting and crying for our death, many bearing siege run to scale the rampart, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few carriage swords or yearn tongue. In an New York minute I shouted for my men to get ready and to fire at will after the phone call is given…

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

"Fire, blast, fire, for your very lifetime and for God and King FIRE FOR EFFECT this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a blare of noise and sess as steel crack flowed out tearing asunder our enemies, with each one who fell replaced by ten Thomas More ever closing the distance. Soon the sand dune of sand, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with oceanic abyss rich red from the shattered humanity before us ; and soon our own would be mingle in as well.

"scrap well my son,"the old Colonel, Handel, stubborn, dower, gruff and as sociable as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the yowl of pellet and case of cannon and mortar coming into the city."Fight well my boy, and betray yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the last-place words he ever uttered as he stood there, before the Brobdingnagian, wooden, metropolis Bill Gates as an explosive laden cannon 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 earnest old Colonel.

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

"Oh brother,"I just declared with an exasperated suspiration, my eyes rolling to the heavens at the sheer act of errors in the"factual infrastructure romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a romance between a Brits maitre d' of the 25th Regiment of metrical foot, the take to be"King's Own Borderers,"and his lady lovemaking, a unfeigned princess from India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the book with a sporty elasticity of my paw, debating for a short-circuit fourth dimension of consigning it to either the trash can or saving it for kindling at the next cookout I have…which is about the only thing it's fit for.

There is one matter I have to say about owning and running your own store, in this case I rent clothing, black tie, robe and all the stuff that goes along with them. This is in addition to being a small loading store with a mountain chain of clause from the unconstipated, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still shake my brain each time I gaze upon the suit of Roman armor on the mannequin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own little portion of the mankind, the tremendous, and hopefully, to be celebrated one of these Day,"Phillip's Fabulous Fashions,"run by, of course, Phillip ( me ). It's a prissy, piffling, summing up and stick up structure, with a neon sign outside that works nigh of the time ; though I have to allow in, that little cell towboat on the roof is a bit of an annoyance, as every week or two, when a storm comes in, it gets hit by a bolt or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of problems with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily narrate the setting you are envisioning, a lone man, drilling and average in his own rightfield, dealing with a boring entrepot, and boring customer, whose routine is the same day in and day out. A very simple, steady, and act job and aliveness, in which there is only one common denominator the proprietor has to get by with :

MIND quelling ennui ! ! !

All too genuine for the most contribution, yet once in a great while, as with last dark, something comes along and turns my small boring world on its head, and life-time is then never the same…as last night I met my own"Princess Jasmine"from far off India…

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


======
I was reading my latest terminology rule book to trying to learn 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 time for my brain to register the fact that, after several hour of inertia, a customer has come into the shop ; clearly indicated by the soft, decided ding-ding-ding of the consternation on the door.

The clear, distinct and reproducible clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of eminent heels, did not fully register as they closed on my location. The gentle, curved and quite thoughtful shadow of my customer, blocking part of the viewgraph lighting, still had not penetrated the depth of my stone dense cerebral matter.

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

looking for over the sharpness of my book I was greeted by a vision that took my breath away !

She could get been a living goddess who deigned to condescend unto the earthly concern and walk among someone. Oh for some cause the Shangri-la have become most king to me this eventide ; or the doors to the depths of Hades have opened, and my endless doomsday and eternal damnation is fully at hired hand. Only a being from another public or reality could equate to this face of living lulu, a genuine avatar on ground, which deems me worthy for a air moment of her attention…

Just about five and a half feet in height, lithe and curved in all the right places, she stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding a hanger on which hung one of the gowns for letting. The sheer beauty of her blue eyes, coppery skin and pearly teeth was accentuated by the delicately, flaccid, satiny black hair that seemed to trip the light fantastic toe with life of its own.

She was clad in a simple, cream colored, spaghetti strap garb, the gentle clipping of floral patterns in abstruse blues and vibrant redness ; the hem coming down halfway between her hips and knees. It clung to her dead body like a endorse layer of skin, showing off each sensuous shape of her flowing feminine anatomy, the mamilla of her tit 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 surgical gown shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a descent view of her partially revealed breasts…my oculus, then capitulum, and the respite of my body moved to sustain that prospect in sight, following along like one hooked upon a line by the bait of choice, knowing your own doomsday is at hand…

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

…until I finally tipped too far in the professorship, crashing to the flooring when my engagement with sombreness committed me to a merging with the hard concrete floor ; so swiftly did this happen that the lady before me only had a moment to cross-file the fact, a soft, musical gasp passing her lip as her free hand shot up to cover it, centre wide in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the trading floor, reaching my hands up to grasp the desk's border. So far I am not making much of a inaugural impression with the offspring dame ; and now I need to get back to a proper land of creative thinker and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my grip on the desk only brought a mountain of stacked books by the edge crashing down with wax, legal brief, and barbarous sounding impact upon my concrete dense oral sex.

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

Finally standing up, I gazed upon that brilliant smile, now grinning astray and partially out of sight behind her one hand, and felt my bosom charging into overdrive and my rakehell building up in temperature while my throat went drier than the Sahara Desert.

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

She handed it to me so I could check the tag act on it ; judgment you, I never check the numbers on the surgical gown, as each one is unique ; it's just that, with her, I wanted to have any apology to be just a bit closer to her presence.

As for the gown she has selected ?

It is a grand, strapless and shoulderless scrubs of shimmering emerald green mixed with cerulean blues, with screw thread of golden bloom, white dame and silver clouds woven into the material. I could just imagine what it would face like on her, and wound up gulping for a back so I could catch one's breath once again.

Right now, I imagine the reality platter for ‘ clueless retard'has just been broken.

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

All I could think of at this instant is how lots of an embarrassment I must be to the world ; here she is, a rarefied gem of the world in my shop, and I keep acting like a ignominy who should be dragged off to a turning point of a one thousand by her bodyguard, then tied to a tree or post as one stands off to the position declaring for his companions to get their hit man ready…

Then with a wildcat gleam in his expression, oculus glowing from behind darkened sunglasses, he declares to them in turn,"Aim low gentlemen, his manhood first and work your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the single-foot of keys, searching for the one to the changing room. My ears kept path of all sounds, while my mind generated all manner of ghostly ranger entering, hopping like silent death around the single-foot and stands of garments toward me with Swift death in their hands, their mission to rescue the Lady from the ‘ dangerous workshop possessor who dared to attend on her endless beauty…"

Key in hand, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such irreverent force that I went drumhead over heals, rolling across its surface, and landing on the former side upon my metrical foot. Her soft gasp and laughter dance in those eyes continued when I gave a slight, clumsy and completely inept bow with a formulation of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

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

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

"Jasmine,"she said.

"If I may bear witness you where the changing room are located ?"

Trying to maintain a professional and dignified composure I set out for the corner of the store, a sheer long walk of about forty or so metrical foot. After unlocking the door and opening it for her, I told her that if she needed anything to just shout out as I will be working nearby.

Jasmine kept smiling as she passed me, her arm and hip brushing against my side, close enough to let me smell the sweet essence she wears ; something akin to cinnamon and honey mixed with rose petals. I followed her movement into the changing elbow room, especially noticing the gentle swaying of her hips and the bounce of her bottom…until she turned to close the door and gave me a coy smile with a wink.

Reaching out to steady myself on a fabric rack, stunned by this bit of flirtation on her share, I missed and once again got introduced to the fine conception of solemnity and the impact upon the floor. Amazingly I was unhurt by this particular fall ; however, the impact did spring the textile rack just enough to make it to fall over upon me, and the one just across the aisle from it, and the stack of Word of God upon each one as well…

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

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

As I pulled myself out from the butchery of wear and rule book I heard the easygoing chuckle of Miss Jasmine, who looked out from the changing room ; a smile of entertainment and mischief on her face, optic dancing with loving and tender laughter - not of scorn but genuine amusement - one arm crossed over her bosom, the gown she has on holding to her waist by the barest of motionless.

Just looking upon those hidden riches beneath her arm, the movement of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly raise and fall like a refined professional dancer practicing a well known act for fond up, made my brain flash into instant steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the clothing and Koran. Right now, this was the only way I could keep my mind off of her ; and the bulging response my amative desires have caused, threatening to deplumate my britches asunder in the front…

One by one I straightened the shelf of skid, clothing on the stand and totally ignored the drive 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 potential her bared eubstance. I mean, what do you expect, I'm a guy, and a nerdish geek as well…

As I passed the changing room, the room access was partially opened, and revealed a sight that would have turned any man into crying ash tree as the flame of lust consumed him utterly in a heartbeat…

She had one animal foot raised onto the sitting chairperson each changing elbow room has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer blanched lacing ; decorated in the rule of heyday, ivy vines and singing birds in flight. It accentuated the coppery feeling of her skin, hugging the bend of her honed muscle, sloping like a boxing glove over her foot and toes.
column inch by inch she moved it steadily up her golden branch, causing me to hold in position from the wonder of her every gesture, beaut and perfection combining feminine free grace and enshroud military posture rich underneath if one bothered to see past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a wonder ; a nerds dream come unfeigned is here before me and I just stand there like a complete cretin. I never got around to installing those video recording security cameras in the changing way as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

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

======
Her movement with the stocking stay on upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to keep moving, but my brain refused to let my ft go forward, backward, or any which way ; Sami for my read/write head and optic, the Thomas Gray material between my ears kept screaming"MOVEMENT warning signal ! hand brake nullification ORDERED ! keep FEMALE IN SIGHT ! AT ALL costs keep FEMALE IN SIGHT"

Now while this was going on, the more socially oriented, etiquette rectify fate of my mind kept up a recollective, whining, whimpering and pleading tirade ; over and over again, it kept emphasizing the inappropriateness of what the rest of my brain was driving me to do.

As it turned out, Miss Jasmine was fully cognisant of my presence ; a lot more than I had assumed just a moment before. Sometimes a man can have his world turned on its head teacher and not give a care at all ; and for me, this was one of those moments.

The stocking had just passed the bend of her knee, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating smiling of her enlightening smile. She gave her head a cold-shoulder shake, one mixing mirth and conceal substance as her hair danced around her buttock and chin, then flowed like fine silk that caressed the golden texture of her skin as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one side, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously graceful guided journeying up the balance of her leg. girl Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few times, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to swirl sensual blueprint upon the stockings textile, prototype of hearts and entwined beings, the symbols of old for erotica and jazz expressed in the dumb oral communication of tease and seduction.

But those eyes, when they swept up to match mine, the profundity of them glimmered as similitude universes unfolding to limitless deepness ; dimensions of sensuality, sexuality, and the rawest of central fiery feminine forces on showing to anyone wishing to presume and step over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, move drawing my attention downward, to where the glittering mass of her breast hung wide-cut and free for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive draft, its reverberate carrying across the store and drawing a piano, luscious giggle from her that sent the two wondrous mounds of undefined pleasure to bouncing around. The nipples were fully erect, demanding that I close my sass, unlock my genius and get in there to begin giving the sheer boundary of supportable love to Miss Jasmine ; and to keep on until she is screaming from the heap tops, or I die from sheer exertion during the effort.

My stock was boiling with smitten desire, my manhood at the out-and-out limits of its strained cause ; the roar that filled my brain demanded that I hurry on in an effort to seduce her and consummate a relationship right then and there.

I could imagine that at any moment the fire consternation and sess sensing element would go off ; as I was consumed on the spot in soundbox, judgement and someone from the tsunamis of primal lust and heat crashing and surging over my trunk and into the primeval soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the scene of the fervour department senior pilot explaining to his chief :"He just erupted into flaming and took out XV city pulley in the summons ; though girl Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

young woman Jasmine turned her head in my steering yet again, and she winked.

She turned slightly one more prison term and then bent over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silken black laced fabric here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingerbreadth just above the one position I know that drives woman into the heights of ecstatic bliss and the depths of Nirvana when pleasured just right by someone…and then the material shifted just enough, deliberately done on her part, to allow for me to behold the inscrutable depths of her womanhood.

She stood up to the limits of her wonderful variety ; stretching her men eminent into the air, pulling the muscular tissue of her abdominal cavity taunting to shew the flawless paragon of each one in turn. Then with one arm behind her back, the other behind her neck, she altered her pose many times over, shifting foot to foot, side to side, all with the grace of a dancer in pure mastery of her intact being.

My gaze kept shifting between her and the reflection in the mirror ; my brain in dire overload as it kept demanding more and More input from all of my skunk ; with each affectation, every subtle and absolute change in posture and presentation of swan like grace in move, the images infused into my memory, branded there for all of clip to come.

putt both of her script behind her neck, turning her chest slightly to one face, she looked upon me and gave off a magisterial smile that would send a million gazillion of men racing to dribble forth her every deed, and die felicitous to have made such an effort.

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

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

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

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

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

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very kind of you to say so ; not very many would kick in such an honest, from the heart type of compliment. Most of the men and women I deal with in the business world are as ruthless and relentless as a horde of vipers in the midst of a killing hysteria,"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 recollective acquainted with danger on a larger and much more deadly scale than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My gulping probably sent shockwaves across the entire metropolis ; causing heads to change state in wonderment, carry through for a handful who would feature knowing looks on their faces, approaching the room access of my shop at any mo, hands hidden in their trench coats…

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

Would it be a last, not so friendly,"eve comrade"from the ‘ men in black'of the KGB just before they use the silenced pistol to fill me wide-cut of hole and sack my workshop ? Or the ever efficient, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by miss Jasmine's Godfather shielder, to"sacrifice Mr. Phillips his final farewell…"as my car, on the following turning of the ignition switch, erupts into a testis of fire and million shard of metal tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her Majesties mystery Service, the ill-famed, double-oh's, who would do me in via a poisoned red hot, nitrile in the soda, exploding natural spring pen. Oh I could see the last one all too well in my speculative dream of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the earphone, and need to get a message down, I tell the person on the other end,"just a moment and I will write this down,"I click the pen, and the plosion takes out the full 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 option has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between parted fingers, seeing the flabby petty pout on her case while she spoke of these other dishonest multitude. It gave me the additional feeling that they saw her as one of three things : rightful challenger due to her knockout, a one time conquest in bed or a potential playfellow and girl-toy.

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

Of row, 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 humanness. The commencement glimmering track of sweat were commencing their journey down my forehead, my boldness flushing from brat filled hotness, 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 room access closed in its entirety.

"Your welcome Miss Jasmine, Sir Thomas 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 melody in the language of Bharat, beautiful as a aspiration and as longing as a tale told…

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

I had to wonder, did she record the playscript, discover a true narrative the Book is based upon…or is she a shade of some sort maybe that of the hanker lost Princess Jasmine herself ?

Any more speculation had to wait as I walked into the corner of my desk, the point jutting out in the frame of a Gyps fulvus delivering the full, dour force of wood directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the ground, 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 come into view. I hoped that she would need to hire the gown and respective others, maybe even to become a steady guest for the shop.

Although that gown she has selected would hug her number so tightly that one damage move would sunder it to the finest stage ; a wad any man and many charwoman would revel to the fullest !

Oh how I could see it happening…

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

Her body would set the nightdress to gleaming in the light source, swirling with the sapphire blues and emerald cat valium as a sea of opaline dish ebbing and flowing ; her hips swaying ever so gently from side to side, causing her pilus to take a hop playfully where it sweeps down over her shoulders, ending just above those tremendous titty that strain for freedom underneath the fabric.

Those down in the mouth eyes dance with bodily fluid and mischief-making, showing she wants the gown for the nighttime, and maybe for her own later on as a purchase.

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

She holds still as the textile tears away from her body, from one side to the other, leaving her momentarily in daze and disbelief at the treason it displayed ; leaving her tit fully exposed, her alright hourglass figure shown to the world, and those stockings and undergarments the but covering she has.

And then her grinning widens as she stands there with one hand on her hip, arm knack at the elbow, the other one acting in her tomentum as she asks of me…

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

I snapped out of my daydreaming to see Jasmine standing in social movement of the desk ; bent forward to enable a rarefied old view of her partially covered bosom.

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

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

My heart felt like it would instantly break loose as my organic structure becomes a pile of smoldering ashes as a fanfare firing sweep me away into the afterlife.

celestial sphere above that gown matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a second skin from her knocker to the middle of her thigh. How it kept from going into instant failure of the material I could not see, as there should be no room for any effort at all, let alone the piano and brace respiration she does, letting her embrace rise and crepuscle in such a way as to need all men's aid instantly.

putt her handwriting on coxa, branch hang at the articulatio cubiti, she did a series of tail and half turns for me to see the entire outfit. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, bent at the knee joint, upon its aerofoil, allowing me to see the hem of the scrubs kick in 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 match my cheek with her free hand, swirling the finger steer in slow circles and teasing spirals.

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

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

I finally managed to get my mouth to unite with my brain and speak :

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

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

The nightgown was as commodity as rented for the night…

Excellent !

I am really glad my pants were still hidden by the desk, as the instant she began caressing my cheek, my very manhood rose swiftly to the moment and hit its climax almost instantly. It would stimulate been total mortification for her to see my own cum staining piece of my britches.

It's a good affair I do keep a few circle of extra vesture of my own here at the shop, including new underwear.


*************************
As it turned out, not as excellent as I had hoped ; for as it has become usual for me, old white potato and his most ill-famed of laws came home to roost.

Jasmine stood there, a horned pout of disappointment on her face, eyes downcast as she understood her available finances were just shy of the deposit and rental fees for the gown.

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

"fille Jasmine I'll cut you a lot this time ; I will undulate the bank deposit for this one time only,"she looked at me with a look of delight and surprise, all but dancing around while clapping her hands in excitement.

"Just remember, that the gown has to be back tonight ; by closing sentence ; and maybe we could…"I just stopped, amazed that I nearly asked her out on a day of the month !

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

"Maybe we could have some fun here at the shop ?"I asked and then grimaced as my pes once again wind up up in my backtalk. I fully expected to get slapped or kicked in a rage of womanly angriness, one I so rightfully deserve for such a statement.

Her hands flew up to cover her lip, which just hung receptive in a silent, shocked gasp of amazement from my absolutely bold and dullard 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 back for the rest of my life…which could cause a few problem with walking forward…

Her lips changed into an wicked grin as she asked"Mr. Phillip's, May I wear the gown to the company ? There is not practically clip for me to get there and they can be so, so huffy about punctuality…"

"Of course you can,"I said.

She pulled the cash for the gown's rental out of her pocketbook and bent over the desk to hand it to me, leaning in so close that she suddenly gave me a hatful on the nerve 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 lot on one toe, and strolled out of the shop ; I watched her every step and flow of her organic structure until I crashed over the desk for the 2nd time this day…not landing on my feet, but into a gun barrel roll that ended in a rack of cloths.

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

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


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

The weatherman kept describing it with savour :"This tempest is to be one so potent that it will touch that of the cataclysm of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the entire city will be destroyed. Flooding ten of understructure thick will hap in the first few min ; while construction will be burned by searing arcs of destructive lightning ; howling winds that will meet you with the dreadful cry of a banshee on the moors before they pick you up and fling you miles into the air for a osseous tissue smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the twenty-five percent meter tonight as I turned the lights off, exit the shop and turn around to lock the doorway, the storm brews luxuriously overhead with the rumbling counter of big H echoing across the cities man made canon of sword and concrete. jiffy of fall come from the lamp posts as the barest of miniature they provide flicker on and off, the brighter trice of lightning mixing with the first falling of rainwater from the heavens to cast an eerie glow across the terra firma 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 much to look at, just an old, very pose up VW Bug, but its mine…and right next to it is that dingbat weatherman broadcasting live outside the radiocommunication post ( also across the street where my car is ).

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

Of course he is calmly sipping away on a cup of coffee between his ‘ desperate, risk filled program in the eye of the storm.'I just shake my head at the sheer hypocrisy and arrogance of such a man ; not to mention the fact he has most of the program equipment upon the top and thug of MY BUG !

"Blast it ! May you get your just payoff for your act, this is unforgiveable !"I saw the look of utter disdain and disgust he gave me, especially as I pointed my remote starter and car dismay activation gizmo ( 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 lighting filled the area, the retort shattering many a window up and down the block as I stand there taking in the visual sense before me…

The weatherman standing, smoldering microphone in his hired hand, charred clothing hanging from his build, while his centre are alight in pure terror as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering mass of twisted metal and spare voice, victim of the vivid series of lightning thunderbolt that happen to hit at that minute.

"Blast, I guess I forgot to change by reversal off the auto destruct switch for my…"I had to smile as the weatherman howled in pure scourge and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a recollective manner of walking house in the rain, which is growing in intensiveness and promise I can explicate to the insurance society of how another car went up in smoke due to a lightning strike…six in one calendar month now.

turning back to the door, I reached for the key again, and wonder again about misfire Jasmine and the grand old gull I have been played for…

Key in the door curl, I prepared to reverse it when I heard a feminine voice shouting out for me to prevail on and the click-click-click-click of high gear heel closing as rapidly as their wearer could.

She just stood in presence of me trying to apologize for being late while gasping for breath, the gown straining to keep on entire as her bosom heaved in and out at an alarming pace. It seems the car bringing her back to the shop had broken down and she literally ran to the store, trying to get back here in clock time. psyche you, the gown cling to her body like a second cutis, soaked through and through by the rain, allowing her heaving knocker to be seen in full detail, including those mammilla at pure attention, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

Holding the door spread out for her and flicking on the visible light I told her I would be inside shortly.

Jasmine smiled at me, a coy look on her center, lips spread in a smiling as her natural language playfully licked and swirled over one of her fingers held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her hips especially delicately, keeping my care fixed on her posterior as she headed for the changing room.

A band of Marines and their Sergeant, out jogging in the rain, completely uncaring for this fierce tempest passed by and looked briefly at young woman Jasmine with grin and a quick sequence of nods ; their Sergeant declaring to the world"Men, now you know one reason we serve on the edge of freedom ; to allow for such a lucky duet to have fun creating the next contemporaries of Marines…'

I shook my head in disbelief and started to maltreat forward, amused by their display of humor ; only to have the canopy over the door rip open and dump gal of perfectly ice cold rain water down upon me.

How much more foolishness is going to occur tonight ?

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

I just sat at my desk, listening to her soft, melodious singing as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the food waste I need to carry on with tomorrow morning. I put it in the usual categories of"pain-in-the-tush detritus"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 clock time to ensure my netmail and saw nothing of importance among them : just the usual complaints about my VW bugs constantly drawing lightning down into the area and an interrogation from the radio station of the localisation of their weather forecaster.

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

She had placed the overcharge gown off to one slope of my desk, and following to that is her own plain gown she had on earlier this day. Her bag was on that gown, and atop it laid her high gear bounder and undergarments. Those sheer clean stockings were the only when affair else on as she stood there, smiling, hired man on her pelvic arch and one leg slightly crossed in front of the early.

Oh my stars !

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

Her coppery cheeks shined in the light, enhanced by the grin of her lips, those gentle eyes dancing with a raw mixture of humor and awakened desire. Her raven hair hung across those o.k. shoulders, ending just above the brace of white meat so vauntingly and fine that any man would be proud to asphyxiate between them with a grand old grin of delight on his face.

Her other handwriting lay on her hip, legs set to support her pose as a model for a photo shoot would sham ; the Lapplander pose that allowed me a full frontal view of her air womanhood !

My heart went to pounding so tight I had to enquire if those temblor measuring machines were registering the event. I imagined the integral block must be slowly shaking to small-arm, so hard and fast was it pounding away.

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

I started croaking like a Rana catesbeiana, still ineffectual to think this was going on right 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 retard extraordinaire.

"Mr. Phillips, do you like 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 succor ; 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 bargain is a passel after all,"she said to me. I just could not conceive this is happening. Here it is, late in the evening, a violent storm raging alfresco and I am here with a lady that most men could only dream of having nearby, let alone having anything occurring between them !

My brain raced at the closed book of how much she has planned for the two of us tonight…

I can hardly waitress to find out…

She came over to the backbone of my desk, eased down across it on her stomach and looked back over her shoulder joint at me with the biggest grin I have ever seen on a gentlewoman. Her legs shifted slightly, bending into the air at the knees as I got a clear sight of her naked womanhood. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a third clock time before rolling over onto her binding, grasping her human knee to squeeze with her hands.

Her giggle drew my regard up to her face, to see her glimmering grin, and a double up blink of an eye to me.

She swung up and around to exchange to being on her hands and knee joint while facing me.

With one fingerbreadth she motioned for me to come closer.

I could see her titty hanging down, moving ever so slightly with each action she undertook ; even swirling her head around to air hair back over her articulatio humeri made them bounce and jiggle, holding my stake like a frailty around a pipe.

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

Jasmine moved one paw upward, her finger's breadth gently touching my cheek, moving in a inbound spiral only to reverse instruction and repeat the rule twice more, drawing a heated up flush to my face ; my breathing space was beginning to vocalise like a wear out bellows, raspy and heated, as the fires of desire stoked gamy and higher in my body.

One portion of my mental capacity was screaming for me to flee, howling in threat, into the storm outside.

The other, the dower gradually gaining dry land ; said to let it happen and delight the ride !

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

She giggled as their journeying continued along my nozzle and across my forehead, then covering my ear.

Each here and now of move set my dead body temperature gamey and gamy ; feeling like my consistence should disappear in a good time of steam that would consume me utterly.


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

Her kiss was one of pure fire and lightning ; surging across each and every fiber of my body. I could feel the sweat beginning to come out on my skin, my manhood rising in full to the moment, as on my brim the salty taste of her own flowed and measured, bringing a refined taste sensation that mixed with the strawberry flavored lip rouge she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my creation collapse in on it, Eden has been achieved ! ! !

Then she planted that fiery, mania filled, electrifying second osculation, followed by a third, and even a fourth part ; 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 fantastic bosom, shortly to stroke and knead so gently the nipples and human body wherever I could reach. They felt so soft, warm and howling to my touch ; her eyes closed, neck opening 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 qualifying her lips.

I started to kiss her neck, taking groovy delight in the discernment of her skin ; a mixture of fragrance arising of her essence and personal smells ; along with that from her earlier dinner - all right steak with sauce, grilled veg, and the ripe odor of clover and vinegar from a face dish of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to start kissing my cervix with such force I imagined there would be lip marks well into the adjacent month. I could find the affectionateness of her quickening breath, the fervour edifice in her trunk from the attention given to her consistence and chest.

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

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

That wild fervour of her heart 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 former manus to her backtalk, playfully nibbling and licking the tips of the finger ; and then playfully sucking away as her eyes and smile enticed me into their depths. Then her hand commenced to move down her torso, teasing circles on her chest ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the small circles and whorl she executes, the mammilla firmly at attention and then some. She brings each one up to her lips, sucking and licking them gently, center locked upon me with a message that the fun was about to reach a new floor of intensity.

I put my workforce on her one leg, gently running them over the firm muscles, caressing and softly massaging each in turn, working my way up to her interior thigh. Where the stuff of her stocking gave way to flesh, I made certain to redouble my efforts, seeking each office that would induce a shivering, quivering or giggle deriving bit of sensation.

I moved my hot seat in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her legs up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to snog her further and foster upwards toward her hip. She lay back, eyes closing once again as I drew closer to her fair sex ; breath becoming combine with soft cooing and computer mouse like squeaks, lips being gnawed on as desires desegregate and flowed, hands covering her back talk as the fingerbreadth made gentle balls, only to release and stiffen again minute later.

I commenced to gently blow flabby ottoman of air onto her thighs, alternating side to side, generating diminished ripples of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within reach of her almost buck private of country, one puff followed another, causing her to squirm and dance about while a fountain of giggled and squeals erupted past her lips ; hands covering up the growing blush on her glistening skin.

When my clapper slid within those witching depth, savoring the perceptiveness of pulp and mix of grain, the hotness of her soundbox and olfactory property mixing one into another with the pace of a coursing river, her hips swayed about, back arching to the empyrean and her script flying down to take hold of my fountainhead, firmly holding me in place.

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

For a here and now I could see my tombstone, engraved upon its marble surface the speech :

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

As my ministrations reached the hidden area trench within, that one location bringing maximal pleasure to all cleaning lady, she thrust one leg straight out against the unit of measurement of shelves I use for record storage ; it promptly collapsed into a heap of wreckage with a crash both of us ignored.

More and more my exploration and relief flowed into a series of letter styles across the alphabet and varying in focal ratio and force ; I just wanted now and always to cast every oz. of wonder and Passion of Christ I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving gravity briefly in program line of my destiny until the storey rushed up to smell solidly into my body ; the chair rolled with some force play backwards, bouncing off the wall and into a nearby cloths stand, which promptly toppled over into another, and a chain 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 dead devastation, then back to her, she giggled and covered her mouth with one hand, giving off a soft"Oops !"

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

She got up off the desk and stood there for a bit not saying anything. I finally climbed up, figuring the climate was done for - the destruction of a shop can have that impression on a Nox of confidant activeness between two people…

"Well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the future words out of my mouth former than as a mixture of squeals and peals as she moved up justly next to me, one hired hand pressing the little of my backrest while the other slid down my britches, and commenced to rub down my manhood along its to the full area ( with the smallish size that is of path not saying much ).

I just looked at her with a sheepish grin on my face as her ministration threatened to send me into instant and double-dyed meltdown.

Of their own pact, my knickers had sauntered downward, until they fell away to puddle around my ankle.

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

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

Her hands came back to keep their joyous succor of my manhood, each campaign sending a series of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying star into my brain. My eyes felt like they would baffle over to the other socket and continue right out of my ears, which had to have smoke bellowing out in column for anyone to smell and see.

It took every bit of control I had left to keep back from hitting my release then and there ; especially when those voiced lips closed about it, the warmth of her back talk adding more and Sir Thomas More to my own as she teased away upon it. I heard and felt my breathing becoming recondite and faster, the sound of a bellows being driven by a windstorm would sound tame in compare !

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

The elbow room felt like it was spinning round and rhythm, the audio of the rain and rejoinder of lightning vibration and quaking the construction ; lights flickering on and off with each close strike.

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

relocation by move, moment by mo she kept me right field on the edge, until she sensed I could hold back no more and quickly lay over the desk on her stomach.

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

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

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

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

Then she shouted out to me, flash and authorize :

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

Faster and profligate I continued pumping away, until the line was crossed and a belly laugh of primordial cacoethes went roaring from my lips…

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

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a one-third fourth dimension my release hit, sending my lifespan ejaculate deep into her body.

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

Jasmine hit her release at the Lapplander blink of an eye as my own, her body having shook with such force out and excitement that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a flying grab by me, arms around her shank and chest kept her from falling onto it.

She turned around and looked at me, a smiling of contentment and wonder on her face. For a minute her stare went downward to her second joint, which I saw had a hint of my aliveness seeded player mixed with her tone ending flowing downward.

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

I saw the clear worry in her eyes, the anticipation of some outrageous amount, or some form of outburst on my part.

"I don't know ; my insurance should address about of it, just going to contract a few day to get everything back in one while before I can open again. All of that commercial enterprise being lost will be a problem with my bank bill coming due in the adjacent week or so,"I had to shake my head as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me realise a speedy call…"she went to her bag and stood there, debating with someone on the other end of her prison cell earphone ; mind you she was still in her birthday courtship, so I got a wonderful appearance of her every motion 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 pass over everything that needs fixing and your business going ; her secretaire Miss Shannon will be here in the break of the day to make an initial estimate with you."

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

Or will the Godmother simply have it be the usual - cementum shoes and chain, then a brief car drive to the pier and into the ocean I go…

"Oh I forgot to tell you, she is the diplomatic minister plenipotentiary to the UN down the street for India,"she showed me her own diplomatic pass that confirmed the story. I just kept shaking my head in disbelief ; it's much forged than her being the daughter of a Cosa Nostra Godmother !

Many, many times worse ! Her mother is a diplomat at the UN of all matter ! ! !

I looked at the threshold, expecting her bodyguards or assassins dispatched by her mother to come in and cross her away to safety, while reducing me and my shop to a good deal of smoldering kindling after introducing me to all way of delightful tortures to insidious and outrageous 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 mother does not take people ‘ taken aid of'like in those unhinged movie you Americans love so much ; too mussy. I stay out of that stuff when I can, I prefer the American language way of having fun - tonight I went to an ‘ old fashion debauchery of 1969'and thoroughly enjoyed myself."

"Oh and Mr. Phillip's I want to thank you for reading that Good Book on your desk ; it's not the best fable in the earthly concern I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her smiling was one of genuine mischief, which let me know how horrendous the book really reads.

"Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my portion, I will not only tell my protagonist to come here for the outdo gowns around ; I will come by each nighttime and bed you, for as long as you want, as many meter 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 maneuver home for the dark ; she mentioned in passing that she will have some Friend with her the next eventide for our"fun"after the shop closes. I wondered if the edifice would even survive ; let alone be standing if another such night is held in the place…of path it would be fun to discover out ! ! !


( fin. )