Our Long Affair by Fitch Man
Prelude
At the age of 23, she found herself managing a very upscale and,
therefore, unpopular clothing store at a trashy suburban mall. She was waiting
for the results of her medical school admissions tests and, although sales work
would have ordinarily been a sufficient diversion for an attractive young woman
such as Kate, she spent much of my time alone in the store waiting for someone
to come in. Of course, she tried on all the most expensive dresses. Designed
for far more matronly figures than hers, the dresses sagged loosely over her
A-cup breasts, her tight little round butt and flat tummy like sequined sacks.
She would spend my days gazing at the busy Victoria's Secret across the hall and
imagine she worked there instead and could buy all the sexiest bras and panties
in the store with her employee discount.
When he came into the store, something attracted my eye. He was older,
yes, but not old; handsome, well built, at ease, sexy, confident, polite - she
wasn't really sure what it was, but when he asked her a question she flushed and
stared into his eyes. Suddenly, she was flirting with him, and she could tell
he was lingering to talk with her more, placing his hand on her arm briefly.
She was getting hot, maybe even wet, at this casual connection that seemed to
envelop them both for an instant. She would have asked him out, she would have
kissed him right then, but for the wedding band on his left hand.
She looked him boldly up and down, focusing on his crotch much longer
and more provocatively than she would have with an unmarried man. He was
flushing too, his face red and a bulge growing in his pants. He liked her
stare, he wanted her, and she saw it and wanted him. They were safe to flirt
and turn each other on, because they knew there would be no touching in the end.
She wanted to imagine him going home and screwing his wife while thinking of her
and how hot and hard she had made him. She wanted to rush into the changing
room, pull up her skirt, and rub her gushing hot pussy. He was still talking to
her, unashamed of the massive and obvious hard-on in his pants, excited that she
was staring at it, staring himself at her erect nipples poking through her
chemise and shirt. She found herself wiggling back and forth, savoring the
friction of tight thong panties against her crotch. She wanted him to see her
cum, she wanted to see him cum.
Now things were getting awkward. They both knew this was going no where
and would ultimately end in retreat. Another customer asked her a question, she
turned briefly, then back to this man but he was gone. After a few minutes of
heavy breathing, she calmed down and refocused on her work.
