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He’s clearly not a local, gliding open our display drawers with the lingerie inside, featured in themes with matching toys.
He knows I’m here, standing in the doorway. My heels were as loud as a marching band, but he doesn’t turn around. All I can see is his large left hand, his thick fingers wearing no wedding band lingering over the goodies he’s found.
“How may I help you?”
I don’t give the customers a choice.
My question is a command, and with this man and his dark hair neatly trimmed along his suntanned neck, his hard muscles obvious and rippling under soft cotton, I’d consider donating an organ to him.
He doesn’t need to turn around for me to know his face matches his body. It’s so fuckable, and if he’s single,he’s mine tonight.
This yummy weight in my ass thrills my clit. This long, fluffy tail hiding under my skirt teases the back of my thighs. This view of his posterior makes me feel like a tiger on the prowl. My god, I want to pounce on him and turn his wide, ripped back into my scratching post.
“Yes, you may help me,” he replies without turning around, sounding gruff and aroused. “Do you have a French Maid’s outfit?”
Is he shy? Is he hard? Is he embarrassed by his kink or just so focused on finding the perfect gift? I can’t be sure, but he’s not turning around; the mystery growing thick like I’m sure his cock is by the second.
Curiously, he pulls open another ivory-lacquered drawer, and though I have a religion against mopping,I’d be his French maid. A man like that? I’d lick him clean with my tongue. I don’t care if he doesn’t taste like vanilla.
That’s an athlete’s body; I know it.
Lucky woman. Men like that aren’t single or alone.They swat pussy away like flies, but still, mine’s buzzing with curiosity.
“Yes,” I answer. “Your dirty maid awaits in the second drawer on your right. Just under your naughty nurse.”
I can’t resist. He may be taken, but I can still flirt. It’s my job, like selling water to fish, and my teasing joke makes him chuckle. I see it shake his beefy shoulders.
“Is she under the easy cheerleader?”
And he’s teasing back, reaching for the drawer, per my instructions, and who is this man? He’s gotta be a pro athlete with that reference.
“Yes,” I play along. “The easy cheerleader lies on top of Officer Orgasm and her pink handcuffs. And, of course, the bad schoolgirl likes being on the bottom.”
“Now, we’re talking. A maidora schoolgirl,” he half moans, half laughs, and my pussy throbs, getting way ahead of herself.
She’s already upstairs, in our third-floor sex salon, leaping into the swing for him and spreading her legs so he can pet her tail.
“Is that what you want tonight?” My voice can’t hide my heat. “Do you need me to help you choose what you desire? Some cleaning or some schooling?”
This man may be taken and off-limits, but damn, you know what they say about men with big hands like that. They’re fondling the see-through black tulle of the maid’s outfit, picking it up and caressing it in his grasp, and I want those hands around my neck. I want them slapping my ass. I want those strapping thighs in jeans, naked and forcing mine open. And that ass, I want to scratch it while he fucks me hard and…
“Why choose?” He starts to turn around, his tone sounding flirty, and maybe there’s hope. Maybe he’s single. “Why can’t I play with two tonight?” His chiseled jaw slowly curves, revealing his dark beard, neatly trimmed, and I can tell his full lips are smiling, too.
But then I meet his laughing aqua eyes… and…
“YOU?”
I sneer as my flesh ignites, my heart bursting into flames. I glare at him. I’m staring down Satan’s sexiest spawn.
The last time I spoke to this man, I punched his dick.
TWO
“You think you can out-kink me?”
BEAU
Ihate this woman so much I’d love to fuck her.
