Read an Excerpt
“Beautiful, aren’t they? Designed to be taken off.”
Christina had sensed his fingers rested on hers just slightly longer than was necessary.
“There are French knickers or thongs to match either,” she said. “Which would you prefer?”
“French knickers, I’m kind of old fashioned.” This was the first time he smiled. It reached his eyes.
“I’m with you on that. Thongs leave little to the imagination. Something more romantic, and more comfortable about French knickers.” Christina returned his smile.
“Let me match them up then you can decide which you’d like to take. We offer a gift wrapping service too.” Christina found the matching French knickers, brushed everything else to one side and laid both sets carefully alongside each other on the glass-topped counter. They were both exquisite, made of silk, trimmed with lace, the bras under-wired. The black one had a glossy, satin sheen, the purple one a matt finish. Either was guaranteed to make a woman look and feel great, Christina had chosen her stock with care.
“I’d like to see them on.” His voice was quiet, but authoritative.
“But she’s not with you.”
“No, I want you to try them on for me.” His tone was insistent.
Christina hesitated, looked down at the slips of silk on the counter. Her whole body glowed with anticipation. And she was a businesswoman, this could be a good sale on a quiet day.
“Kate, you go home, I’ll finish off with this customer and cash up. See you in the morning.”
Kate nodded, smiled and disappeared, not needing to be told twice.
“Follow me,” Christina adopted his tone of authority. Glancing over her shoulder as she walked to the back of the shop, she could see he was following, as instructed. He appeared to be watching the swing of her hips in her tight pencil skirt.
“Wait there,” she said as she closed the changing room door behind her. The space was small, just room for two people, in case a customer had a friend with her, or required a second opinion. There were floor to ceiling mirrors against one wall. The other walls were painted a rich cream. The spotlight overhead gave the customer the best possible light. Not too harsh, but bright enough to show Christina’s beautiful products off to their best advantage. Not used to being the customer, Christina felt unsure for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath she undid the zip on her skirt, slid it to the ground and stepped out of it. Standing in front of the mirrors for a moment she appraised herself from the front and rear. Dressed in black French knickers she stocked in the shop, she felt good. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Her breasts were high and firm in a pretty matching plunge bra. She unfastened the bra, and pulled the knickers off. Now she stood naked in front of the mirror. Naked all but for four-inch back patent court shoes. She felt slutty, but good too. Her body was toned but curvy, a woman’s body. The kind of woman the underwear she sold was designed for.
“Are you ready?” His voice called from the other side of the door.
“Nearly,” she replied. “Wait, please.”
She wondered if this was how he really wanted to see her. Naked and hot. Parting her legs slightly she stroked her mound, touching her lips, feeling her juices flow over her fingers. She trembled. Yes, she was ready, almost. Gently, Christina slowly pulled the French knickers up. The silk slid effortlessly over her smooth skin, sending tiny electric shocks down her thighs. The bra cupped her breasts beautifully, creating cleavage. If showing him this didn’t sell the set, nothing would, thought Christina. She took a deep breath, turned round and pulled the door open.
“So do you think she’ll like it?”
He was silent. Appraising me again, thought Christina. She wondered how she measured up.
“Turn around. I need to see you from the back.”
She turned from him and leant forward, resting her hands against the mirror. Her breath was warm, frosting the glass. She gazed into her own eyes. She hoped that, for now, they were unreadable.
“Good,” his voice was close; she could feel his breath on her shoulder. Glancing at his reflection, and then back to her own, the contrast was striking. He was wearing a charcoal, light wool suit. It looked darker than it was against her pale, uncovered skin.
“Down more, please.” This felt like an order. She could feel the silk taut against her arse. She walked her hands down the mirror. Her breasts fell forwards, almost tumbling from the bra. Her nipples rubbed against the lacy edging. The sensation was delicious. She rocked slightly from side to side to heighten the feeling.