Buy Something Red

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Alexa Pearl

At my favorite high-end lingerie store in the city, they employ almost exclusively tall, beautiful women with bodies that are easy to imagine lounging around in their wares–round, perky breasts that bump up against you when they’re measuring your cup size and asses that are high, tight and invariably clothed in an expensive pair of La Perla panties. When I walk in, a gorgeous young blonde smiles at me from behind a counter and asks in a voice huskier than I would have predicted if she could be of any help to me today.

I smile back and think of you, and the assignment you whispered to me on the phone this morning. “Buy something red.” The words still dance on the edge of my consciousness, tickling me in places I want to tell you about later.

I indicate part of a new collection that has been put on display since the last time I visited, and she nods. “Oh yes,” she says, grinning. I pick up a dark red bra and feel the smooth contours of it between my fingers. I smile in spite of myself, thinking about your hands finding the material, taking in its luxurious feel for a moment then tearing it off of me with a hungry growl.

“Do you need any help with that?” the blonde asks as I take the bra and its matching panties towards the fitting rooms. For a brief moment, I imagine her and me in various states of undress behind the velvet curtain, my mouth on her pretty, pink nipples while I finger her into submission on her lunch break. But then I pinch myself. I’ve made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it.

I call that I’m fine on my own, and find myself staring at the full-length mirror, about to slide out of my skirt. I hear the phone ring out throughout the shop, and the salesgirl’s voice, which is suddenly higher and not husky at all, sounds stressed. “Fifteen minutes!” I hear her sputter into the phone, then hang up. In an instant, she is just outside the curtain. She is so close that I can smell her perfume–jasmine with other floral notes–and the scent makes me heady for a moment. I pinch myself again.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, but I have a small emergency,” she says. “Are you okay alone here for a little bit?” I smile at myself in the mirror. They know me here, and I am trusted to be alone with all this expensive lace and silk. “Of course,” I reply, and begin to remove my top. In the mirror, I see an attractive redhead with alabaster skin and deep green eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of black stockings. I hear the door close and take the red bra from the hanger, safe in the knowledge that I am completely alone in this little shop, and that I am carrying out your assignment to the letter.

As I’m clasping the bra behind me, I hear the door open again. The salesgirl must’ve have forgotten something, I think. But then I hear footsteps heading towards the fitting room. I gasp a bit under the flattering light, half naked and feeling more than a bit vulnerable.

In an instant, a large hand sweeps the curtain back. In the mirror, I see your face staring back at my image, your eyes wild and piercing. Upon meeting your gaze, I feel a familiar warmth spreading between my legs. I am incredulous, and instantly aware of your body and my body in this small, enclosed space.

“But…how? You’re supposed to be at work–” I start, but you cut me off by placing a hand on my left shoulder, your eyes never leaving mine.

“Shhhh,” you whisper closely to my ear, sliding your fingers along the left strap of the red lace and then pulling it from my skin slightly, letting it snap back against my pale skin, where it will undoubtedly leave a mark.

I turn around to smile at you, but you square my shoulders back so that I’m still facing the mirror with just enough force that I know I shouldn’t try it again. Your beard tickles me as you tilt my head back and kiss the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. We are still maintaining eye contact in the mirror, taking in this small, barely clad woman and this strong, tall, fully-clothed man behind her. I casino oyna open my mouth to say something, but you respond by biting me hard in the same spot you just kissed. As your teeth sink into me, I instinctively grab for your hand. You bat me away and slide your hands along the silk of my panties, sending them to the ground in a flourish. Seconds later your large hands are unclasping the bra, and I gasp.

“We won’t be alone for long,” I whisper, a slight panic rising in me. You grin, a look of pure mischief crossing your features.

You say my name, slowly and deeply, in a tone that I’ve come to adore and slightly fear for the power that it has over me. “You know you’re not supposed to worry about that,” you nearly coo. “You had a job, and you’ve done it. My good little girl.” Your words are soft and kind, but your hands are suddenly rough as you position my arms above me, palms on the mirror. My breasts are exposed, my pussy is glinting wet underneath the lights, and I feel you stiffen against my back. You are so much taller than me; your cock grows harder against my back and I feel a second wave of panic, mixed with a light-headed and intense desire.

“I’m not sure we have the time–” I venture, and before I can finish my thought, your hand swats my round, bare ass. Hard. Your look, reflected in the mirror, is stern.

“Don’t speak again,” you mutter. “Good little sluts should be quiet and let me worry about things. Are you a good little slut?”

I start to say yes, but think better of it and just nod, slightly. “Good girl,” you say, squeezing my tits hard, for emphasis. I moan involuntarily, louder than I should, and your hand is back on my ass, fingers spread, filling the small area with the sound of flesh on flesh.

“Your ass is getting really red under these lights,” you say, in a tone that I would describe as appreciative. “Almost as red as the lingerie I told you to buy.”

I giggle, biting my lower lip to keep myself from responding. I hear your pants unzip, and suddenly, I feel your hard, thick cock against my skin. Instinctively, I move my hand towards my pussy, to quiet the pulsating rhythms that are flooding through it, but you shut me down completely.

“No,” you growl. “That is mine. All of this,” you wave a hand over my tits, pinching my already stiff nipples. “Is mine.” To punctuate the statement, you take your index finger and shove it into my pussy. Perhaps you want it to hurt a little, but I am so drenched that it slides in perfectly. I watch your eyes in the mirror, and can tell you are surprised to feel that I am already so ready for you. You wiggle that large finger inside me for a moment, getting it very wet with my juices, then bring it to my mouth.

“You know what to do, my good little slut.” My eyes never leaving yours in the mirror, I take your finger slowly onto my tongue, tasting my salty sweetness, all there for you. Your cock twitches against me in response. I lick it long and deeply, wanting to taste all of me, wanting you, wanting this.

Forcefully, you spin me around so that I’m finally facing you. Your cock cannot be ignored between us, hard and now glistening its intent to fuck me here, in this not so private place, in the middle of an afternoon. You take my head in your hands and kiss me long and hard. Your tongue is probing me, sucking all of the residual wetness from my pussy, and I can’t believe how turned on I am at this moment.

You must sense my willingness to surrender in how I’m meeting your kiss with my own reckless abandon, exploring your mouth, biting lightly on your tongue, expecting—and getting—a harder bite on my own as an answer. Your hands wander down to my soft breasts, my nipples growing tauter and tauter as you flick them and pinch them and generally abuse them for your own amusement. I flinch in divine pain, and I feel myself opening up between my legs, longing.

“I want—” I start to whisper, but you cut me off with a finger to my lips. The same finger that was just canlı casino in my cunt, and still faintly smells of me and my excitement. This only makes me want all of you, more.

“I know exactly what you want.” And then you say my name again. I shudder against you while you take my nipple between your lips. Instinctually, I grab for your cock, wanting nothing more than to hold a part of you physically in me, and you smack my hand back in a way that leaves me chastened, but not deterred. I want that thick cock inside me; I want it to wreck me from the inside and leave me in a heap on this floor, contemplating this sweet mystery of pain and pleasure that we seem to inhabit.

I feel a sharp pain on my left breast where you bite down, then proceed to suck me tenderly—an apology of sorts. And then suddenly, you’re pushing the whole of your body against me, slamming my back into the mirror with such strength that for a second I worry that it might fall from the wall. My eyes widen and meet yours, which stare back at me with a hunger that nearly destroys me. You’re grinning slyly as you push my thighs apart, and then you’re on your knees in front of me. Your beard tickles my smooth pussy, turning it red from friction. You want to tease me but I want so badly to feel your mouth on me that I grab your head and try to bring you in closer. I need to feel that skilled tongue on my clit, lapping, sucking, fucking me until I can’t remember where I am. I know this is wrong, that you won’t like this, but my need is too great to stop me. You react with a disapproving growl and are instantly on your feet again, clutching my tiny wrists above me against the mirror in one strong hand, and using the other to maul my breasts, pinching them so hard that the marks appear instantly. I cry out in pain, and then you whisper my name an inch away from my ear.

“Do you think you deserve my cock?” you purr, rubbing the place that is still stinging and warm. You release my hands, placing my right one around the hard, thick reminder of how much you are also enjoying this. Being able to touch it fills me with a strange sort of power, and I greedily begin to stroke you up and down, afraid you will change your mind. “Does my delicious little cum slut want that inside her?” you tease me, knowing the answer all too well. I bite down so hard on my lip that I might have broken the skin. You notice this, and kiss me tenderly and slowly on the spot, flicking your tongue in a way that sends knowing pulses between my legs. I literally could not be more ready to have you, every inch of you, right here and now.

I don’t need to say anything. You intuit it, brushing your lips against my ear and whispering my name one more time. Your cock is still in my hand, but I need it elsewhere. It’s a blind, naked need that nearly shames me, because I know that if you leave this small space without giving it to me, I will break. I look into your eyes and nod.

And suddenly I am backed against the wall again, my thighs spread powerfully by your legs as you lift me from where I stand. My legs wrap around you tightly and I moan, much too loudly, when you slide inside of me. “Mmmmmm. That’s my good little whore. Always ready for me, aren’t you?” You mumble, and I feel myself tighten around your cock, an involuntary action that you probably won’t object to. You pause for a second and look me in the eye, almost daring me to say something.

“We have to…we can’t stay…we won’t be alone much longer,” I all but groan, thinking about the gorgeous blonde salesgirl who will be coming back from her unexpected break soon. You respond by pounding me harder, harder; I can hear things falling on the other side of the wall—lacy, silky things clattering to the ground on hangers. I think about how trusting she was to leave me here alone, about how at any moment, another customer could enter this store and hear me moaning louder with each violent thrust. I know I should be more concerned than I am, but you are fucking me and biting me and kaçak casino sucking me so well that everything else fades into the periphery.

“Shhhhh,” you whisper into my ear. “Stop thinking. This is what I want, this is what you want. This is what is going to happen.” Your words bring me to the precipice, and with one well-placed bite on my earlobe, I shudder against you, feeling waves of warmth embrace me, starting between my legs and radiating up and down until I am completely engulfed. My voice breaks as I mumble one word—your name.

You laugh, loud and throaty, still keeping pace and tearing me up inside. I am acutely aware of how wet I am getting you, and I color slightly. As though you sense this small insecurity, you say with a sexy smile, “That’s my good little girl,” and run your large hand through my hair. “That was fast.”

I bite my lip and nod, looking away. Instantly, your hand is gripping me lightly by the throat, forcing me to face you again. “You’re not done yet,” you mutter. “Just because I let my little slut come first doesn’t mean she comes last.”

“But—fifteen minutes—” And your hand is over my mouth, muffling any sounds. I feel the familiar warmth again, my cunt pulsating around your cock with more and more intensity.

“Listen to me,” you smile, an undeniable sparkle in your eyes. “It doesn’t matter if that girl comes back or not. I don’t care if she brings ten of her friends with her. You are going to give me what I want before I leave here.” You grab my chin. “Understood?”

I nod, thinking briefly about the salesgirl coming back to find us in this state, appearing shocked and scandalized until I reached out for her and began to kiss her—first her lips, then her beautiful tits. And finally, her delicious cunt. All under your skilled direction.

Suddenly, you withdraw, placing me back on the floor less than gently. I gasp, the gasp turning into a cry when you take me by my narrow shoulders and thrust me to my knees in front of you.

“Is my good little cum slut ready to receive her reward?” you smirk. You begin to stroke your massively hard cock, your fingers sliding with ease thanks to my extreme lubrication.

“Uh huh,” I moan, looking up at you with big eyes, my smile so wide because I also want this.

“I’m going to decorate your gorgeous tits, and then I’m going to leave,” you laugh devilishly. “How you clean yourself up, not my problem. You’ll just have to be a good little slut and figure it out.”

“Mmmhmmm,” I mumble. I take my nipples between my fingers and pinch, hard, delighting in the shocks of pain as I await your cum. I raise my tits to you when I know you are close, and you spurt all over them, sticky and white and messy against my flushed skin.

You grin down at me. “Such a good little girl,” you coo. You take my head in your hands and kiss me tenderly and slowly, sending shocks of a different kind down my spine. “I’m proud of you.”

I nearly purr as I hear this, it fills me with that much satisfaction. You are reassembled and put together in a very short time, pulling the heavy curtain behind you as you leave. You say my name and tell me you’ll see me tonight. I sigh and look at myself in the mirror.

I am red and warm and still covered in you. I take the panties I was wearing when I came into the store, clean myself up, and shove them into the bottom of a bag. I dress quickly, feeling that I need to urgently leave this store before the salesgirl comes back. I walk out onto the floor just in time to see her walking in; she is on her phone, and she still sounds stressed.

I think about what just happened. I think about how you orchestrated all of this—how it wouldn’t even surprise me to learn that somehow, you had a hand in getting her out of here so that you could ambush me, take me and leave me. I am very aware that my pussy is naked beneath my skirt, and I twitch.

The salesgirl shoots me an apologetic smile and I pray I can distract her from seeing the mess we made in the fitting rooms. She walks behind the counter.

Then I remember your instructions. “Buy something red.”

I pass the bra and panties over to her. She smiles, and I can’t help but smile in return.

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