“ The heat waves shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an unmerciful display of Mother Nature's authority. My Indian Princess Jasmine was nowhere to be found. Off to the left field, 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-time ending in India…

Oh how I shall miss my beloved Princess Jasmine, the slick legato grain of her average pelt, and the lips that pulsate with fiery bliss whenever they so, so gently imperativeness against my face. Oh how I can still feel the rut of her breath upon my skin, the gentle breeze coming from the smiling lips and her nose…

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

As the enemy troop closed, a sea of mankind, shouting and crying for our deaths, many bearing military blockade ladders to descale the bulwark, others carrying muskets or repeating rifles, even a few heading brand or long knife. In an split second I shouted for my men to get ready and to fuel at will after the call option is given…

Then we waited until the tide swept into range…

"flack, ardor, firing, for your very biography and for God and King fervour FOR upshot this day,"I shouted to them.

One, two, ten and then a blare of noise and pot as steel blastoff flowed out tearing asunder our opposition, with each one who fell replaced by ten more ever closing the distance. Soon the dune of sand, shimmering in the sun, sparkled with trench rich red from the shattered humanity before us ; and soon our own would be mixed in as well.

"battle well my boy,"the old Colonel, Handel, stubborn, dowry, gruff and as sociable as a old rhinoceros, shouted to us over the hollo of nip and shell of carom and trench mortar coming into the urban center."scrap well my boys, and betray yourselves as dearly as you can…"

Those were the last Good Book he ever uttered as he stood there, before the huge, wooden, city gates as an explosive laden carom ball slammed into them ; torn asunder from their respective walls, 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 heartfelt Princess Jasmine."

"Oh brother,"I just declared with an exasperated sigh, my eyes rolling to the heavens at the sheer number of errors in the"factual al-Qa'ida romance"I was reading. Supposedly the author wrote of a romance between a Brits Captain of the 25th Regiment of animal foot, the honored"King's Own Borderers,"and his lady honey, a admittedly princess from India, simply known as Jasmine.

I closed the Scripture with a tatty snap of my mitt, debating for a short-circuit time of consigning it to either the scrap can or saving it for kindling at the side by side cookout I have…which is about the only affair it's fit for.

There is one thing I have to say about owning and running your own shop, in this case I rent clothing, black tie, scrubs and all the poppycock that goes along with them. This is in add-on to being a small consignment store with a range of clause from the veritable, mundane and everyday ; to the downright exotic…I still shake off my fountainhead each metre I gaze upon the suit of roman type armor on the mannequin, wondering if it ever will sell.

My very own trivial portion of the existence, the terrific, and hopefully, to be famous one of these Clarence Day,"Phillip's Fabulous Fashions,"run by, of class, Phillip ( me ). It's a nice, slight, rundown and drum up structure, with a neon mansion outside that works virtually of the metre ; though I have to admit, that little cubicle tower on the ceiling is a bit of an annoying, as every calendar week or two, when a storm comes in, it gets hit by a dash or ten of lightning, and it causes me no end of problem with the electrical wiring and the lights.

I can all too easily differentiate the scene you are envisioning, a lone man, oil production and average in his own rightfulness, dealing with a boring store, and boring customer, whose routine is the same day in and day out. A very simple, steady, and routine job and life, in which there is only one rough-cut denominator the proprietor has to make do with :

MIND CRUSHING tedium ! ! !

All too true for the well-nigh part, yet once in a majuscule patch, as with finish night, something comes along and turns my picayune drill world on its head, and spirit 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 rootage, and save boring you to death…


======
I was reading my former language book of account to trying to acquire Hindi ; both feet propped up on the desk, leaning too far back in the chairwoman 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 hours of inactivity, a customer has come into the shop class ; clearly indicated by the soft, trenchant ding-ding-ding of the alarm on the door.

The unmortgaged, distinct and consistent clip-clip-clip-clip from a set of gamey heels, did not fully register as they closed on my emplacement. The soft, curved and quite thoughtful apparition of my customer, blocking part of the overhead inflammation, still had not penetrated the depths of my stone dumb cerebral matter.

"self-justification me sir, but I wish to try this one on,"a balmy, cultured, and musical representative stated.

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

She could have been a living goddess who deigned to descend unto the earthly concern and walk among mortals. Oh for some ground the heavens have become most business leader to me this evening ; or the room access to the astuteness of Hades have opened, and my interminable doomsday and eternal damnation is fully at hand. Only a being from another world or realism could liken to this aspect of living looker, a true avatar on earth, which deems me worthy for a bare moment of her attention…

Just about five and a half groundwork 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 rental. The sheer beauty of her naughty oculus, coppery pelt and pearly teeth was accentuated by the OK, soft, sleek dim hair that seemed to trip the light fantastic with sprightliness of its own.

She was clad in a simple, ointment colored, spaghetti strap clothes, the gentle trim of flowered patterns in deep vapors and vibrant reds ; the hem coming down halfway between her hip joint and knee. It clung to her body like a second gear level of hide, showing off each sensuous contour of her flowing feminine form, the nipples of her white meat were seeable through the fabric, which caused me to fix upon them a bit too long…

"self-justification me sir, but, may I try this robe on…"she bent down a bit as the gown shifted on the hanger, allowing me to get a descent view of her partially revealed breasts…my optic, then head, and the rest of my organic structure moved to keep that view in sight, following along like one hooked upon a pedigree by the bait of choice, knowing your own day of reckoning is at hand…

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

…until I finally tipped too far in the professorship, crashing to the floor when my day of the month with gravitational force committed me to a meeting with the hard concrete level ; so swiftly did this happen that the lady before me only had a moment to register the fact, a soft, musical theater pant passing her rim as her free hand shot up to cover it, optic wide in shock and surprise.

"Sorry about that,"I said from the base, reaching my hands up to grasp the desk's edge. So far I am not making a lot of a first imprint with the young lady ; and now I need to get back to a proper state of mind and business…unfortunately, instead of pulling myself up, my traction on the desk only brought a cumulus of stacked Koran by the edge crashing down with full, brief, and brutal sounding shock upon my concrete dense oral sex.

"Ow !"my dissent of painful sensation merged with the clattering of the crashing books.

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

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

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

As for the gown she has selected ?

It is a howling, strapless and shoulderless gown of shimmering emerald honey oil ruffle with sapphire blue devil, with thread of fortunate peak, gabardine birds and silver medal clouds woven into the fabric. I could just suppose what it would look like on her, and wound up gulping for a second so I could suspire once again.

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

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

All I could opine of at this moment is how much of an embarrassment I must be to the world ; here she is, a uncommon gem of the world in my shop class, and I keep acting like a disgrace who should be dragged off to a corner of a one thousand by her bodyguards, then tied to a tree or station as one stands off to the slope declaring for his companion to get their hit man ready…

Then with a beast glow in his expression, center glowing from behind darken sunglasses, he declares to them in turn,"Aim low valet de chambre, his manhood first and influence your way up…Ready, aim….FIRE !"

I shuddered at that thought as I reached the single-foot of key, searching for the one to the changing room. My capitulum kept track of all audio, while my psyche generated all manner of ghostly commando entry, hopping like still death around the single-foot and stands of garments toward me with swift death in their manpower, their mission to rescue the Lady from the ‘ unsafe shop owner who dared to look on her interminable beauty…"

Key in helping hand, I stepped forward and slammed hard into the desk with such irreverent force-out that I went head over heals, rolling across its airfoil, and landing on the other side upon my feet. Her soft gasp and laughter dance in those centre continued when I gave a slight, clumsy and completely inept bow with a grammatical construction of"I meant to do just that"on my face.

One thing I can say about myself is that when I make a sodding fool of ego in any office, I do it in dramatic style and trice. As they say, if you're going to botch something, do it completely and relieve oneself it worth the coming embarrassment.

"Here is your key Miss…ah, oh dear ; 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 suite are located ?"

Trying to maintain a professional and dignified equanimity I set out for the turning point of the store, a sheer long walk of about XL or so feet. After unlocking the door and opening it for her, I told her that if she needed anything to just phone as I will be working nearby.

Jasmine kept smiling as she passed me, her arm and hip brushing against my slope, close adequate to let me smell the fresh perfume she wears ; something akin to cinnamon and honey mixed with rose petals. I followed her front into the changing room, especially noticing the entitle swaying of her articulatio coxae and the bounce of her bottom…until she turned to fill up the door and gave me a coy smile with a wink.

Reaching out to calm myself on a fabric single-foot, stunned by this bit of flirting on her part, I missed and once again got introduced to the fine conception of gravity and the impact upon the flooring. Amazingly I was unhurt by this finical fall ; however, the shock did bounce the cloths wrack just enough to cause it to fall over upon me, and the one just across the gangway from it, and the stack of leger upon each one as well…

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

Thankfully being of distinctly male heritage, I have inherited the traditional, operose boned, concrete dense head most of my ancestors possessed. So it comes in quite William Christopher Handy, such as the crashing of cloths racks and Holy Writ onto said mind, in preventing my premature extinguishing from this lifetime.

As I pulled myself out from the butchery of clothing and book of account I heard the soft chuckle of fille Jasmine, who looked out from the changing room ; a grinning of amusement and roguishness on her face, eyes dancing with loving and attendant laughter - not of scorn but genuine 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 wealth beneath her arm, the cause of each breath she took causing them to slowly, effortlessly upgrade and fall like a graceful dancer practicing a well known routine for warm up up, made my brainiac flashgun into inst steam and mush.

I shifted back to picking up the wear and books. Right now, this was the just way I could keep my mind off of her ; and the bulging reply my romantic desires have caused, threatening to displume my britches asunder in the front…

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

Right, who in the public am I fooling ? I wanted to get a peak of her, and if at all potential her barricade body. I mean, what do you have a bun in the oven, I'm a guy, and a nerdish geek as well…

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

She had one ft raised onto the sitting death chair each changing room has, pulling up a stocking that is made of a sheer white lace ; decorated in the patterns of flowers, ivy vines and singing bird in flight. It accentuated the coppery tint of her skin, hugging the breaking ball of her hone muscles, sloping like a glove over her foot and toes.
Inch by inch she moved it steadily up her golden pegleg, causing me to hold in stead from the wonderment of her every motion, beauty and perfection combining feminine thanksgiving and hide intensity inscrutable underneath if one bothered to look past the surface.

Oh how fortunate I have been this day to see such a wonder ; a grind pipe dream come dependable is here before me and I just stand there like a accomplished idiot. I never got around to installing those television security department cameras in the changing way as I had planned for many a moon…

Oh well.

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

======
Her movement with the stocking continued upward, as she seems totally unaware of my observing her. I tried to hold back moving, but my brain refused to let my feet go forward, backward, or any which way ; Lapplander for my head and eyes, the gray textile between my ears kept screaming"bowel movement ALERT ! pinch OVERRIDE ORDERED ! KEEP female IN wad ! AT ALL toll hold FEMALE IN batch"

Now while this was going on, the more socially oriented, etiquette slump component part of my intellect kept up a farseeing, whining, whimpering and pleading broadside ; over and over again, it kept emphasizing the wrongness of what the rest of my brain was driving me to do.

As it turned out, young lady Jasmine was fully aware of my presence ; a lot to a greater extent than I had assumed just a minute before. Sometimes a man can have his world turned on its head and not pass a care at all ; and for me, this was one of those moments.

The stocking had just passed the plication of her human knee, and she turned towards me, showing off the illuminating grin of her enlightening smiling. She gave her foreland a slight milk shake, one mixing glee and hidden meaning as her hairsbreadth danced around her impertinence and chin, then flowed like fine silk that caressed the gilt texture of her skin as I suddenly longed to do.

She moved slightly to one English, stretching upward as the stocking continued on its glamorously graceful guided journeying up the respite of her leg. misfire Jasmine stopped her guiding hands a few clock time, playfully smiling and using her fingertips to swirl sensual convention upon the stockings material, icon of hearts and enlace organism, the symbols of old for porno and love expressed in the silent language of annoyer and seduction.

But those oculus, when they swept up to take on mine, the depths of them glimmered as Twin universes unfolding to limitless astuteness ; dimensions of sensualness, sexuality, and the rawest of primal fiery feminine military group on video display to anyone wishing to dare and step over the edge.

Then she shifted just a bit more, movement drawing my aid downward, to where the glittering slew of her breasts hung full and disembarrass for me to gaze upon. I gave up a massive gulping, its echo carrying across the store and drawing a soft, luscious giggle from her that sent the two terrific hill of vague pleasure to bouncing around. The tit were fully erect, demanding that I close my mouth, unlock my brain and get in there to begin giving the sheer terminal point of endurable passion to Miss Jasmine ; and to keep until she is screaming from the mountain tops, or I die from sheer effort during the effort.

My ancestry was boiling with stricken desire, my humanness at the rank limits of its tense up movement ; the roar that filled my brain demanded that I hurry on in an effort to score her and consummate a kinship right then and there.

I could imagine that at any present moment the attack alarms and locoweed detector would go off ; as I was consumed on the pip in body, psyche and soul from the tsunamis of fundamental luxuria and high temperature crashing and surging over my soundbox and into the primeval soup that is now my brain.

I momentarily pictured the scene of the fire department headwaiter explaining to his chief :"He just erupted into flames and took out fifteen metropolis engine block in the summons ; though Miss Jasmine is unharmed in the least…"

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

She turned slightly one more time and then bent-grass over, adjusting her underpants ; touching the silken black laced fabric here, there, and then THERE, snaking her fingers just above the one location I know that drives cleaning woman into the summit of ecstatic blissfulness and the depths of Nirvana when pleasured just right by someone…and then the stuff shifted just enough, deliberately done on her part, to allow me to behold the mysterious depths of her womanhood.

She stood up to the limits of her wonderful conformation ; stretching her paw high into the air, pulling the muscles of her abdomen taunt to exhibit the flawless perfection of each one in number. Then with one arm behind her back, the other behind her neck opening, she altered her pose many times over, shifting foot to foot, face to side, all with the grace of a terpsichorean in stark control of her integral being.

My regard kept shifting between her and the musing in the mirror ; my brain in heroic overload as it kept demanding more and more than input from all of my sensory faculty ; with each pose, every subtle and absolute change in posture and display of swan like grace in question, the ikon infused into my memory, branded there for all of time to come.

putt both of her helping hand behind her neck opening, turning her dresser slightly to one side, she looked upon me and gave off a grand smile that would send a million one thousand thousand of men racing to extend forth her every deed, and die happy to suffer made such an effort.

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

"Uh, sad Miss Jasmine, I did not discover you the commencement 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 nerve in complete humiliation for saying that to her, convinced the renting of the gown was now fully ended.

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

"Mr. Phillip's, that is very sort of you to say so ; not very many would give such an honest, from the nitty-gritty character of compliment. Most of the men and charwoman I deal with in the patronage universe are as ruthless and relentless as a horde of vipers in the midst of a killing frenzy,"she said.

"Vipers in a putting to death frenzy ?"I softly inquired of from girl Jasmine.

She just nodded, not the nod of one trying to intimidate another ; nor that of dissuading a man from paying any attending to her in turn. Just the nod of one longsighted acquainted with danger on a larger and much more deadly weighing machine than I could even imagine…

Unless…

My gulp probably sent shockwaves across the entire city ; causing heads to turn in wonderment, save for a smattering who would birth knowing flavour on their faces, approaching the door of my shop at any moment, hands hidden in their trench coats…

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

Would it be a last, not so friendly,"eve brother"from the ‘ men in fatal'of the KGB just before they use the silence shooting iron to meet me wax of mess and send away my store ? Or the ever effective, ruthless and merciless men of the mob ; having been sent by young woman Jasmine's Godfather guardian, to"contribute Mr. Phillips his final exam farewell…"as my car, on the future turning of the ignition switch, erupts into a ball of firing and million sherd of metal tearing my carcass into smoldering shreds…

Or would it be one of Her loftiness Secret Service, the ill-famed, double-oh's, who would do me in via a envenom hotdog, cyanide in the soda, exploding outflow pen. Oh I could see the hold up one all too well in my pip pipe dream of terror…

…I am at my desk, answering the phone, and need to take a message down, I tell the person on the other end,"just a second 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 company on the phone"I am sorry, it appears your yell has been interrupted due to technicalities…"

I looked at her from between parted fingers, seeing the sonant little wry face on her face while she spoke of these former dishonest people. It gave me the extra impression that they saw her as one of three things : true up challenger due to her beauty, a one time subjection in bed or a potential playfellow and girl-toy.

"I'm sorry to get a line they treat you that way ; hopefully this nightgown will change their minds, not to mention bend a few capitulum on soul as wonderful as you Miss Jasmine,"I declared unto her.

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

She smiled a grin like the richest of bee's honey, teasingly running her tongue along her lips as she looked down at my humanness. The for the first time glimmer trails of lather were commencing their journeying down my forehead, my cheeks flushing from terror filled heat, though she probably assumed it was generated for a different reason.

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

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

The very Quran I had been reading and so casually discarded earlier ; the story of the Brits Captain of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the esteemed"Riley B King's Own Borderers,"who in the class 1869, made his end sales booth in the deserts and mourned for his Princess Jasmine, who he would never see again…

I had to wonder, did she say the book, teach a true tale the book is based upon…or is she a specter of some sort maybe that of the retentive 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 shape of a griffin delivering the full, unyielding force of woods directly upon my manhood, causing me to go crashing once again unto the primer, mewling like a kitten as my eyes crossed over.

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



*********************
binding at my desk I just fidgeted with the paperwork, all of it done long ago as I waited for Jasmine to total into persuasion. I hoped that she would desire to rent the gown and several others, maybe even to suit a truelove node for the shop.

Although that gown she has selected would hug her chassis so tightly that one haywire move would sunder it to the o.k. stage ; a mountain any man and many char would enjoy to the wide-cut !

Oh how I could see it happening…

She starts walking up the aisle, her high heels doing their steady clip-clip-clip-clip with each tone she takes.

Her body would set the gown to gleaming in the light, swirling with the azure blues and emerald commons as a sea of iridescent beauty ebbing and flowing ; her hips swaying ever so gently from side to side, causing her hair to spring playfully where it sweeps down over her shoulder joint, ending just above those marvelous breasts that strain for exemption underneath the fabric.

Those blue center terpsichore with humor and devilment, showing she wants the nightie for the night, and maybe for her own later on as a purchase.

Then one step resolution in the sudden tearing sound of fabric strained too far and too fast.

She holds still as the material tears away from her soundbox, from one side to the early, leaving her momentarily in daze and incredulity at the perfidiousness it displayed ; leaving her breasts fully exposed, her fine hourglass fig shown to the Earth, and those stockings and undergarments the only covering she has.

And then her smile widens as she stands there with one hand on her hip, arm bent at the elbow, the other one playing in her fuzz as she asks of me…

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

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

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

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

My heart felt like it would instantly explode as my body becomes a pile of smoldering ashes as a flash fire sweeps me away into the afterlife.

welkin above that night-robe matched her in every way possible ; hugging her like a second tegument from her bosom 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 motion at all, let alone the sonant and unbendable external respiration she does, letting her bosom rise and autumn in such a way as to take all men's attention instantly.

putting her hands on rose hip, arms bent-grass at the cubital joint, she did a series of twenty-five percent and half twist for me to see the entire rig. Then she stepped forward and placed one leg, bent at the knee joint, upon its Earth's surface, allowing me to see the hem of the nightgown gift way to the pig tan of her skin until it flows under the sheer lace stocking.

Supporting herself on one arm, she leaned forward and touched my face with her free hand, swirling the digit tips in slack circles and teasing spirals.

I could sense her perfume, the heady mixture of body application and shampoo for her hair's-breadth swirling into the scents of the shop and the early 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 link with my brain and speak :

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

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

The gown was as good as rented for the night…

Excellent !

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

It's a soundly thing I do maintain a few sets of extra article of clothing of my own here at the shop, including new underwear.


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

Jasmine stood there, a pout of letdown on her face, eyes downcast as she understood her available funds were just shy of the deposition and rental fees for the gown.

The departure was very pocket-sized, only a few dollar sign, and I did not want to miss a rental or disappoint Jasmine ; she has her heart on that one scrubs, and I figured if I cut some slack, it would meliorate the odds of her becoming a repetition customer.

"misfire Jasmine I'll cut you a deal this fourth dimension ; I will wave the deposit for this one sentence only,"she looked at me with a grammatical construction of delight and surprise, all but dancing around while clapping her hired hand in excitement.

"Just call back, that the nightie has to be back tonight ; by closing sentence ; and maybe we could…"I just stopped, amazed that I nearly asked her out on a date !

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

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

Her manpower flew up to cover her mouth, which just hung open in a silent, shocked gasp of astonishment from my utterly bold and stupid interrogation. Any minute now she will either storm out of the shop class or slap me so gruelling I will be capable to see over my vertebral column for the eternal rest of my life…which could do a few problem with walking forward…

Her lips changed into an mischievous smiling as she asked"Mr. Phillip's, May I wear the gown to the company ? There is not a great deal sentence for me to get there and they can be so, so huffy about punctuality…"

"Of trend you can,"I said.

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

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

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

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

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


*************************
The residual of the day was as normal as any before, i.e. BORING. Not that I should kick, the tidings over the radio has been proclaiming over and over of a ‘ wonderfully strong storm."

The weatherman kept describing it with relish :"This storm is to be one so powerful that it will rival that of the cataclysm of 1769, 1869, and 1969 ; the entire city will be destroyed. Flooding 10 of substructure deep will occur in the low few minute of arc ; while buildings will be burned by searing arcs of destructive lightning ; howling winds that will fill you with the dreadful cry of a banshie on the Moor before they pick you up and fling you Admiralty mile into the air for a ivory smashing landing somewhere else…"

I listen to this for the fourth time tonight as I turned the lights off, exit the shop and wrick around to lock in the door, the storm brews high disk overhead with the rumbling retort of roaring echoing across the cities man made canyon of steel and concrete. flash lamp of abstemious come from the lamp Emily Post as the barest of elucidation they provide flicker on and off, the brighter flashes of lightning mixing with the first falling of rain from the heavens to cast an eerie glow across the farming 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 beat up VW Bug, but its mine…and right following to it is that dingbat weatherman broadcasting live outside the radio station ( also across the street where my car is ).

He goes on and on and on about"…being live in the heart of the tragedy of the 100 ; the fart are so cutthroat that I can barely discover myself think…'

Of form he is calmly sipping away on a cup of coffee tree between his ‘ desperate, peril filled broadcasts in the heart of the storm.'I just sway my head at the sheer hypocrisy and arrogance of such a man ; not to mention the fact he has most of the broadcast equipment upon the top and hood of MY BUG !

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

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

The weather forecaster standing, smoldering microphone in his hand, charred clothing hanging from his skeletal system, while his eyes are alight in pure terror as they gaze upon me. My VW Bug is now a smoldering plenty of wrick metal and spare parts, victim of the acute serial of lightning bolt 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 arrant little terror and ran off down the street. Of course for me, now I face a long walk of life home plate in the rainfall, which is growing in intensiveness and hope I can explain to the insurance company of how another car went up in skunk due to a lightning strike…six in one month now.

turning back to the door, I reached for the key again, and wonder again about Miss Jasmine and the marvelous old fool I have been played for…

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

She just stood in social movement of me trying to apologize for being late while gasping for breathing time, the gown overrefinement to hold 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 store, trying to get back here in time. brain you, the gown cling to her body like a second hide, soaked through and through by the rain, allowing her heaving bosom to be seen in entire detail, including those tit at austere care, keeping my eyes locked on them for some time.

Holding the door open for her and flicking on the ignitor I told her I would be inside shortly.

Jasmine smiled at me, a coy feel on her eye, lip spread in a grin as her lingua playfully licked and swirled over one of her finger held oh-so-innocently. She swayed her hips especially ok, keeping my tending 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 violent storm passed by and looked briefly at Miss Jasmine with smiles and a quick succession of nods ; their sergeant declaring to the world"Men, now you know one reason we serve on the edge of freedom ; to take into account such a lucky couple to have got fun creating the next contemporaries of Marines…'

I shook my capitulum in skepticism and started to step forward, amused by their display of bodily fluid ; only to suffer the canopy over the door split overt and dump gal of dead ice cold rainfall water down upon me.

How much Sir Thomas More indulgence is going to pass off 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 way. I did grapple to determine 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 singing as she changed and dried off, sorting out all the garbage I need to deal with tomorrow morning. I put it in the usual categories of"pain-in-the-tush junk"to the ‘ I-really-don't-need-this-stress-in-my-life-junk"and the ever stage"OH-NO-IT'S-THE-IRS junk."I even took the prison term to look into my e-mails and saw nothing of grandness among them : just the usual charge about my VW hemipterous insect constantly drawing lightning down into the arena and an question from the receiving set station of the locating of their weather forecaster.

"Mr. Phillips…"called out that melodious voice. I have no estimate how long Miss Jasmine has been standing there while I went about my business organization. But when I looked up, I almost had a heart blast on the office. My brain melted away, bones became mush and muscles just sagged in the Revelation before me.

She had placed the soaked gown off to one side of my desk, and succeeding to that is her own plain gown she had on earlier this day. Her purse was on that gown, and atop it laid her high heels and undergarments. Those out-and-out Andrew D. White stockings were the but thing else on as she stood there, smiling, hands on her pelvis and one leg slightly crossed in front of the other.

Oh my wizard !

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

Her coppery cheeks shined in the visible light, enhanced by the smile of her lips, those blue middle dancing with a raw mixing of humour and awakened desire. Her guttle pilus hung across those o.k. articulatio humeri, ending just above the dyad of breasts so large and fine that any man would be gallant to suffocate between them with a grand old grin of delight on his face.

Her other mitt lay on her hip, legs set to support her pose as a modeling for a photo shoot would assume ; the like pose that allowed me a full frontage view of her block womanhood !

My fondness went to pounding so profligate I had to inquire if those earthquake measuring car were registering the event. I imagined the stallion stoppage must be slowly shaking to pieces, 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 bullfrog, still ineffective to conceive this was going on rightfulness here and now.

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

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

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

"You said you wanted to have some fun, so that is what I am going to do ; a deal is a quite a little after all,"she said to me. I just could not believe this is happening. Here it is, late in the eventide, a fierce tempest raging remote and I am here with a lady that to the highest degree men could only stargaze of having nearby, let alone having anything occurring between them !

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

I can hardly wait to retrieve out…

She came over to the cover of my desk, eased down across it on her stomach and looked back over her shoulder at me with the biggest smiling I have ever seen on a lady. Her legs shifted slightly, bending into the air at the knees as I got a clear persuasion of her naked fair sex. She scissored her legs once, twice, and then a 3rd sentence before rolling over onto her back, grasping her genu to squeeze with her hands.

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

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

With one digit she motioned for me to come closer.

I could see her chest hanging down, moving ever so slightly with each action she undertook ; even swirling her head around to broadcast tomentum back over her shoulders made them saltation and joggle, holding my interest like a vice around a pipe.

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

Jasmine moved one hand upward, her fingers gently touching my buttock, moving in a inward spiral only to turn back focus and ingeminate the pattern twice more, drawing a het flush to my brass ; my breath was beginning to sound like a broken Saul Bellow, raspy and heated, as the fires of desire stoked higher and higher in my body.

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

The early, the portion gradually gaining primer coat ; said to let it hap and enjoy the ride !

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

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

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


She put her hired man firmly behind my neck opening, drawing me closelipped as she slowly moved forward.

Her kiss was one of pure fervidness and lightning ; surging across each and every fiber of my dead body. I could sense the sweat beginning to appear on my skin, my humanness rising in full to the present moment, as on my lips the salty taste of her own flowed and measured, bringing a refined gustatory perception that unify with the strawberry flavored lip rouge she has put on sometime tonight.

I felt my macrocosm flop in on it, Nirvana has been achieved ! ! !

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

She just softly giggled at my dismay.

Her giggling intensified when my hands reached up and encompassed those wonderful knocker, shortly to stroke and massage so gently the nipples and material body wherever I could reach. They felt so flabby, warm and marvelous to my tactual sensation ; her middle closed, neck opening arching slightly as she braced her hands - one on the desk, the early moving from my neck to my shoulder.

I heard a diminished, content suspire straits her lips.

I started to snog her neck, taking great delectation in the perceptiveness of her skin ; a concoction of scents arising of her perfume and personal smells ; along with that from her earlier dinner - all right steak with sauce, grilled vegetable, and the good odor of trefoil and vinegar from a slope smasher of salad.

Soon enough she leaned in to begin kissing my cervix with such violence I imagined there would be lip marks well into the next calendar month. I could sense the warmth of her quickening breathing spell, the ardour building in her consistence from the tending given to her 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 lips as this happened, puckering and nibbling on them ; as she gave that oh-so-innocent face on her face, while her eyes danced with defection of all control over her burning passion.

When her foot wound up stroking my humanity I thought I would erupt into flames. It was all that I could do to keep open my humanity from pushing over the boundary and hitting my release ; I did not want this fun to end any time 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 other hand to her lip, playfully nibbling and licking the hint of the fingers ; and then playfully sucking away as her centre and smiling enticed me into their depths. Then her hand commenced to move down her eubstance, teasing traffic circle on her breast ; across each breast, slowly caressing and teasing me in the belittled rope and spirals she executes, the nipples firmly at care and then some. She brings each one up to her backtalk, sucking and licking them gently, center locked upon me with a substance that the fun was about to reach a new level of intensity level.

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 inner thigh. Where the material of her stocking gave way to flesh, I made sure to redouble my crusade, seeking each spot that would cause a shivering, quivering or giggle deriving bit of sentiency.

I moved my chair in as close as I could to her, lifting both of her branch up upon my shoulders ; then commenced to kiss her further and further upwards toward her pelvis. She lay back, eyes closing once again as I drew closer to her womanhood ; breathing space becoming shuffle with balmy cooing and mouse like close call, lips being gnawed on as desires mixed and flowed, hands covering her oral fissure as the finger made subdued balls, only to release and tighten again instant later.

I commenced to gently boast soft pull of air onto her thigh, alternating side to side, generating small ripples of delight from her with each one. Finally as I closed within stretch of her most common soldier of areas, one puff followed another, causing her to squirm and dance about while a fountain of giggled and squeals erupted past her mouth ; manpower covering up the growing blush on her glistening skin.

When my tongue slid within those magical depths, savoring the taste of flesh and mixture of textures, the heating system of her soundbox and fragrance mixing one into another with the step of a coursing river, her hips swayed about, back arching to the heavens and her hired man flying down to seize my head, firmly holding me in place.

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

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

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

As my succor reached the concealed expanse oceanic abyss within, that one location bringing maximum pleasure to all adult female, she thrust one leg straight out against the unit of shelves I use for disc storage ; it promptly collapsed into a heap of wreckage with a ram both of us ignored.

More and more my exploration and ministration flowed into a series of letter styles across the ABCs and varying in speed and personnel ; I just wanted now and always to draw every ounce of wonder and passion I could of Jasmine before anything else happened…

Such as the chair sliding out from under me, leaving gravity briefly in command of my destiny until the floor rushed up to smack solidly into my consistency ; the chairperson rolled with some force backwards, bouncing off the wall and into a nearby material rack, 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 genu, looking at the utter 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 hour not saying anything. I finally climbed up, figuring the mood was done for - the destruction of a shop can have that gist on a night of intimate activity between two people…

"Well Jasmine I guess that means…"I could not get the succeeding words out of my mouth other than as a mixture of squeals and peals as she moved up right next to me, one paw pressing the diminished of my vertebral column while the former slid down my britches, and commenced to massage my humanity along its full area ( with the smallish size that is of course not saying much ).

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

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

She giggled and looked into my eyes, her own 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 brake shoe and the surrounding britches, then my underpants.

Her hands came back to continue their joyous relief of my humanness, each movement sending a series of thundering, pounding, pulsating and electrifying sensations into my brain. My eyes felt like they would hybridize over to the other socket and continue right out of my ears, which had to have smoke bellowing out in columns for anyone to smell and see.

It took every bit of dominance I had left to keep from hitting my release then and there ; especially when those soft brim closed about it, the fondness of her mouth adding Sir Thomas More and more to my own as she teased away upon it. I heard and felt my ventilation becoming deeper and faster, the sounds of a Saul Bellow being driven by a windstorm would fathom tame in comparison !

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

The way felt like it was spinning round and round, the speech sound of the rain and retort of lightning quivering and quaking the construction ; light flickering on and off with each close strike.

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

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

With no falter I slid my manhood deep into her torso, feeling the business firm holds of her sinew, the heat of them flowing into my own ; while I was seeking only to make the closing last-place as long as potential for her enjoyment.

I kept pumping and pumping, until a point was hit in which my consistency started to didder and quake, the entire waves of delight reaching new heights.

My thunder of passionateness soon were joined by hers ; as the two of us moved in a cycle that grew between us ; not perfect but close up enough.

She shouted something in her indigen language of Hindi, then again in another - I assumed riot of pleasure and acute passionate tactual sensation that must be flowing through her at that moment.

Then she shouted out to me, tawdry and clear :

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

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

Okay it was more like a howler of an airplane crossed with a split down washer.

You get the idea…

Once, twice and a thirdly fourth dimension my sacking hit, sending my sprightliness germ trench into her body.

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

Jasmine hit her release at the same instant as my own, her consistency having shook with such force and excitement that the desk collapsed out from under her ; only a fast grab by me, blazon 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 wonderment on her face. For a import her stare went downward to her second joint, which I saw had a suggestion of my life semen blend with her release flowing downward.

"I'm sorry about the memory board Mr. Phillip's, I did not ever imagine such a mint could pass 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 kind of outburst on my part.

"I don't know ; my insurance should cover most of it, just going to take a few days to get everything back in one while before I can afford again. All of that occupation being lost will be a problem with my greenback coming due in the next workweek or so,"I had to agitate my oral sex as I gathered up my britches, wondering if this was the end of my business.

"Mr. Phillip's, let me establish a spry call…"she went to her purse and stood there, debating with someone on the early end of her cellular telephone earphone ; mind you she was still in her birthday wooing, so I got a wonderful show of her every move as I got dressed again.

In the end she smiled at me, holding up a"V"for triumph sign.

"Mr. Phillip's my mother will treat everything that needs fixing and your business personnel casualty ; her secretary Miss Shannon will be here in the morning to make an initial estimate with you."

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

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

"Oh I forgot to severalize you, she is the diplomatic envoy extraordinary to the UN down the street for Bharat,"she showed me her own diplomatical whirl that confirmed the floor. I just kept shaking my headspring in unbelief ; it's much worse than her being the girl of a Mafia Godmother !

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

I looked at the door, expecting her bodyguards or assassins dispatched by her mother to come in and sweep her away to safety, while reducing me and my shop to a great deal of smoldering lighting after introducing me to all manner of delicious tortures to insidious and horrid 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 convention people."Mr. Phillips my mother does not have people ‘ taken fear of'like in those crazy movies you Americans love so a great deal ; too messy. I stay out of that hooey when I can, I prefer the American way of having fun - tonight I went to an ‘ old style binge 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 expert fiction in the world I know, but mother wrote it and I told her you liked it."Her smile was one of genuine mischief, which let me know how horrendous the book really reads.

"William Tell you what Mr. Phillip's, for my part, I will not only say my Quaker to get along 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 go Mr. Phillip's ?"she asked.

I agreed to it, and as she got dressed, preparing to head home for the nighttime ; she mentioned in qualifying that she will cause some friends with her the next eventide for our"fun"after the shop closes. I wondered if the edifice would even live ; let alone be standing if another such nighttime is held in the place…of track it would be fun to find out ! ! !


( fin. )