Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
It was the first Saturday of April and I was dozing on the sofa watching daytime Sports TV when Mum and Dad arrived home from a day shopping in town.
“Guess what?” Dad grinned as he playfully shook me from my half-sleep. “I’ve arranged an interview on Monday; for a Summer job for you!”
“You’ve done WHAT?” I growled as the enormity of the sentence hit home.
“Dad has organised an interview for you with Nick at Nicholas Shoes”. Mum repeated Dad’s life changing sentence as she changed TV channels.
“Oh Dad……you know…..oh shit.” I grumbled as I realised that I wouldn’t be able to doss around watching TV and hanging out with my pals playing tennis, going to the gym and drinking lots of cold beer as I waited to go to University in September. I also needed to get a girlfriend as I was constantly horny and had started wanking twice a day.
“Watch your language…my boy.” Dad hypocritically chastised me. “Nick is expecting you at 10 sharp. Mum will get you out of bed bright and early; so you can get showered and shaved and remember to dress smartly.”
As arranged; on Monday morning I unwillingly made my way into town for the interview dressed in my best trousers, white shirt and a smart green v-neck pullover. Nicholas Ladies Shoes was an upmarket shoe boutique that Dad claimed catered for ‘Footballers Wives and Gangsters Molls’; carefully forgetting that my Mum also bought all of her shoes there. It was tucked away in the financial district and the owner, Nick, was quite a cool guy that I’d known all of my life.
The interview was quite laid back with Nick appearing more concerned about my time keeping than experience or trustworthiness. After two cups of coffee we shook hands on the deal and agreed that I would start work the following morning. We then chatted about music and football.
Eventually he asked what my Mum thought about me working in his shop.
“Not much, I guess.” I shrugged, “it looks like it was Dad’s idea.” Nick smiled and looked away.
By lunchtime on the Tuesday I realised that I could have had a lot worse jobs. I was expected to dust and clean, answer the phone and unpack any deliveries that arrived. I was only to serve customers if Nick was busy. His choice of music was quite good too – very soulful and jazzy; because he had been a scooter riding Mod ‘back in the day’. The shop got quite busy on the Friday and Saturday and I eventually served a couple of the ‘more mature’ ladies when Nick was serving the younger more glamorous ones.
Nick certainly knew his customers and greeted most with a hug and a kiss then a query about something in their lives or whether the item that they’d previously bought was still in use. I suggested that he must have a photographic memory but he replied that it was just years of practice and good customer relations to make everyone feel special.
Nothing very exciting happened until the following Wednesday afternoon when an attractive, smartly dressed woman about my mothers’ age came into the shop. Nick greeted her with a customary kiss on the cheek and had a brief chat with her but excused himself as he had to go to the bank before it closed; leaving me to help her try on some knee-high boots. I dutifully brought her the three styles that she’d selected with a couple of extra larger sizes for her to try on.
“Can you help me with this zip please?” The lady asked.
“Of course I can.” I replied as I nonchalantly slid the fitting stool next to her feet and sat on it. She instantly placed the sole of the shoe on the plinth and turned her knee outwards to allow me access to the zip. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I pulled the tight zip up her calf as I had an unobstructed view of her stocking tops and lacy white knickers up her dress. I desperately tried to stay calm as she rolled her leg from side to side admiring her boot.
“It’s a bit tight. Can I try those on now please?” She sighed as she pointed to a snakeskin pair.
“Of course.” I replied as I took a boot out of the box.
“Well?” She grinned at me as she wiggled her foot. “Are you going to take this one off for me?”
“Oops.” I blushed, “Sorry.” Then held her ankle and pulled the zip down; getting another eyeful of her grey stocking tops and a definite crease in the centre of her knickers.
She carried on like this for nearly ten minutes, trying each pair on twice, until she finally selected a black patent pair with three inch heels.
I was nearly too frightened to stand up in case she saw the stiffy filling the front of my trousers.
I neatly turned away so my back was facing her and scurried to the till to complete the purchase. I was so nervous I made a couple of mistakes as I took her credit card details. I checked her name – Dr. Donna K Babb.
“I’m very sorry Dr. Babb; but I’m new and still learning.” I mumbled an apology as I swiped the card for a second time and handed her the receipt.
“Call me Donna,” the woman chuckled and thanked me before giving me a saucy wink as she left bostancı escort the shop.
I still had a hard on as I tidied the boots away and it was still semi stiff an hour later, as I served two more women who were wearing jeans until Nick eventually finally appeared from the bank. I didn’t mention what had happened when he asked about the sales.
I had plenty more flashes of knickers and g-strings over the next few days as women bent over wearing hipster jeans or upskirt views as they tried on boots and shoes wearing skirts or dresses. Plus there were lots of women who ‘accidentally’ let me see down their blouses or dresses so that I got an eyeful of cleavage or the occasional nipple.
Nick eventually caught me looking up a woman’s skirt one day as I fitted her with some beautiful shoes while he was talking to the woman’s husband. When the sale was completed and the couple had left the shop I began apologizing but he only laughed and told me that it was ‘a perk of the job’. From then on we compared notes on the different types of underwear that we saw – it was a right laugh.
Occasionally Nick would take ‘old friends’ into the office for a coffee. It didn’t take Einstein to work out what they were really doing.
Usually it would be when I was unloading deliveries or busy with other customers but one day I had to go into the back stockroom for some shoes and I took the opportunity to sneak a peek through the office door. Wahay! Nick was sitting on the desk with his trousers around his ankle and a woman whom I’d served the previous week was rubbing her tits across his cock then dipped her head to kiss his bell-end. I knew I couldn’t stay long as my customer was waiting; but this was too good to miss. She looked up at my boss then opened her mouth to swallow his cock. I got an instant hard on; especially when he grabbed the back of her head as he slid off the desk to force his cock down her throat making her gurgle.
I was blushing when I returned to my customer and told her that I’d had to climb a ladder and was out of breath.
Another lady arrived as I finished the sale so I didn’t get the opportunity to see any more in the office. They eventually walked back into the shop as innocent as possible. They said their goodbyes and Nick just asked if I’d sold anything in his absence.
The following day something ‘interesting’ happened. In the middle of the morning a petite Asian woman came into the shop. Without resorting to stereotypes she didn’t look like our kind of customer. We certainly had plenty of female Asian customers but this woman looked a tad untidy with thick unkempt hair and her clothes were a little bit ‘High Street’ and ‘well worn.’ She asked to try on a pair of boots that retailed at nearly £400. It wasn’t my place to judge so I got the required size and stood back. Without sitting down she tried the left boot on then changed position like a Crane to try the other on. I was impressed at her agility. She liked them but wanted a smaller size; trying these on while standing on one leg too. The perv in me was alerted because her skirt rode up and I got a good look at her slim but muscular thighs; but no flash of her knickers but noted that she was wearing cheap tights.
“Can you put these away for me until Friday?” She asked. I nodded and took her details then reluctantly placed the box in the kitchen. Mrs. Syal thanked me profusely as she left the shop. I never expected to see her again.
As good as her word she returned on Friday at 2.15; but this time I hardly recognized her as she was ‘glammed up’ and her thick black hair had been cut into a short shoulder length ‘bob’ with red highlights all the way around the edge. I got her boots from the storeroom as she placed her designer shop carrier bags next to one of the velour chairs. I offered her a boot to try on and grinned as she went through the same procedure as earlier in the week and stood on one leg exposing plenty of nylon covered flesh at the same time.
Thankfully she wanted them and then selected three more pairs of expensive shoes and two hand bags. Nick looked on mightily impressed.
At the till she noticed a display of hosiery and casually flicked through the packets.
“Can I ask a stupid question?” She asked while wrinkling her long nose as she compared a pair of stockings with a pair of hold-ups.
“Of course;” I politely replied as I put the boxes into carrier bags.
“What is the difference between these?” Ms Syal asked as she put the two packets onto the desk.
I looked up at Nick for guidance but he just grinned.
“Well,” I carefully thought how to answer her, “hold-ups have elesticated tops and literally stay up like that and the stockings need a….suspender belt to keep them from falling down.”
She picked them up again.
“Which are best?” She naively asked with a twitch of her pointed nose.
“It depends what you want them for.” I gulped; realizing I was getting into a potentially büyükçekmece escort embarrassing situation.
“What do you mean?” The Asian lady innocently asked. Nick was now biting his knuckles to stop laughing out loud.
“Well,” I stumbled with my words, “most women find the hold-ups….easier to wear and keep the…stockings for…..special occasions.” My face must have been nearly purple with embarrassment.
“Oh!” She chuckled when she (hopefully) realised what I meant. “So…..which do men find the sexiest?”
I wanted to curl up and die.
“The stockings…and suspenders; I guess….but the hold-ups are popular too.” I croaked as my throat was now as dry as a bone.
“Do you sell the suspender belts?” Mrs. Syal asked as she put both packets on the desk and went back to the display.
“Sorry; but you’d have to buy those at a lingerie shop.” I stumbled with my words as she returned with another three pairs in assorted colours including a pair of chocolate seamed stockings.
“Okay.” She smiled as she indicated that she wanted all five pairs. She paid for everything with cash and asked if I could help carry her bags to her car.
Nick shrugged his shoulders so I agreed. Outside the shop she produced a pair of Chanel sunglasses from her handbag which made her look even sexier and more glamorous. On the way to the car she casually explained that she was recently divorced from a top surgen who had returned to live in India and her settlement had amounted to several hundreds of thousands of pounds and she intended to enjoy herself as her husband had been very authoritarian and mean with money.
I was suitably impressed when we entered the underground garage of the accountancy firm she worked for and saw that her car was a Mercedes sports model. She lowered the electric roof and with a polite wave she roared off into the sunset.
Nick took the piss out of me for the rest of the afternoon and most of the following day….telling me that she was going to seduce me and make me her toy-boy. I wish!
During the following afternoon one of our local footballers came in with his girlfriend who I also recognized as she was a topless model called Candy who had been in a girl-band a couple of years previously. She was stunning in her denim jacket, white low-cut vest and leather shorts. Nick stood talking to the footballer as I helped his girlfriend select some shoes.
She selected a white snakeskin pair and red patent pair with chains and buckles. Both had 4 inch spiked heels.
As I got the boxes she sat with one leg casually slung across the other and had her back to her boyfriend and Nick. As I eased off her own shoe my eyes slowly looked up and down her long silky smooth legs. Because of the way she was sitting it was difficult to get the tight shoe off.
“Will this be better?” She whispered as she sensuously unlinked her long legs and rested her foot in my crotch.
I grinned and winked. I took the shoe off and fitted the snakeskin one like the Prince and Cinderella. As she examined her foot she did the now expected twist of her knee which also made her tiny shorts open a little. I had to let out a little cough to disguise my surprise. I was expecting a little flash of panty but……she wasn’t wearing any! Instead I got to see a bald fanny flap.
“Can I try the other one now?” The model purred. I took her shoe off and replaced it with the new one. Again she twisted her knee outwards and I got to see the other bald flap.
She stood up and tottered around the shop; admiring herself in the mirrors and trying to garner some praise from her boyfriend who didn’t seem interested in the slightest.
Candy returned and whispered, “I’ll teach the big-headed fucker to ignore me.” Then she tried on the red pair in exactly the same way only putting the heels together at one stage and bending both knees outwards giving me a perfect view of her bald twat with only a slither of leather in the middle.
“I’ll have both pairs sweetie.” She told me then turned to the boyfriend; “he’s paying.”
I gathered the shoes together and hobbled to the till with the shoe boxes hiding yet another stiffy!
“That’ll be……”£415 please.” I asked the star. He didn’t bat an eyelid as he passed me a black credit card. Bastard!
“Nice guy,” Nick said as the left the shop, “he’s promised me two tickets for the Cup game next Wednesday.”
“Nice girl,” I replied, “She showed me her twat ‘cos he’s a tosser!” Nick made me tell him exactly what had happened; and I did in intimate detail.
A few more days went by with not a lot of excitement when Nick asked me to open the shop the following morning as he was going to play golf with a friend and would be in at lunchtime. I was flattered that he trusted me but a little nervous.
The following morning I opened up as promised, checked the post, tilted the blinds as it was a very sunny day, paid the window cleaner, accepted two deliveries çağlayan escort and when everything was organised made a well earned cup of coffee.
Just as the kettle boiled I heard the shop door open. I quickly poured the coffee and stepped back onto the shop floor.
“Oh!” I was a little surprised to see Dr Donna K Babb standing in the middle of the shop. I didn’t recognize her at first as she was wearing black framed glasses and her hair was tied into a short pony-tail. “Nick’s not in,” I mumbled. “He’s…..”
“Playing golf.” She finished my sentence for me “With my husband….so it’s just you and me again.” Dr Babb smiled and sashayed to the bottom of the shop where she deliberated over two styles of shoe.
My heart was racing and my stomach in knots as I looked at her. She looked twice as sexy today in a grey pencil skirt; black Bolero jacket, white silk blouse, black patent stilettos with a buckled collar around the ankle that I recognized as coming from Nicholas Ladies Shoes and some very nice fishnet tights.
“Can I try these two pairs please?” The older woman purred and I swear licked her lips.
I dutifully got the shoes and handed the first to her.
“Aren’t you going to help me try them on?” She purred again; her voice an octave or two lower, “like last time?”
I gulped and sat on the stool in front of her as she placed her foot on my lap so I could unbuckle the shoe that she was wearing. It was a battle to control the shaking in my hands but I managed then slipped on the new shoe. As usual she twisted her leg and soon curled her leg outwards. I discretely looked up her tight skirt.
“FUCK!” My brain nearly overloaded, the fishnets were stockings but I couldn’t determine what colour panties she was wearing; only that they were something dark.
“I’ll try the other one now please.” Her voice was like velvet.
As she placed her other foot on my lap so I could unbuckle it her legs drifted as wide as the tight skirt would allow.
“DOUBLE FUCK!” Dr. Donna K Babb; whose husband was playing golf with my boss, wasn’t wearing any knickers! I got a perfect view of her hairy clam, neatly framed by the black tops of her hold ups.
“Thank you.” She told me as I carefully placed the shoe onto her left foot.
With that she stood up and straightened her skirt then nonchalantly admired herself in the full length mirror. Just as I was about to salivate at her radiance the door opened and another delivery of shoes arrived.
I was in a daze as I checked the cartons and signed the slip.
As I turned towards Dr Babb, she had changed back into her original shoes and was holding her hand up and pointing a long manicured finger towards the door.
“Perhaps you should lock it and put the sign on; so that we’re not disturbed.”
“What sign?” I queried.
“It’s in the drawer under the till.” She grinned; “Nick uses it when he gives ladies… ‘Personal fittings’.”
“Oh?” Was all I could muster, as I found the sign and hung it and locked the front door.
As she sat back in the velour chair Donna hitched her skirt up to her thighs then sat down fully exposing her clam and stocking tops.
“Oh sweetie,” she purred as she adjusted her stocking tops, “surely Nick has told you what he gets up to in here?”
“No,” I gasped, sweat pouring down my back and my eyes fixed onto her neatly trimmed pussy.
“He’s very popular among the ladies in town; not just because of the shoes he sells and I think you’ll make a very good apprentice!” She said as she motioned for me to take my place on the stool again.
Mesmerized I sat between her open legs as she lay back into the chair and slid her arse onto the edge.
“Now be a good boy and lick Donnas’ pussy.”
“Really?” I whispered. “But I’ve never…you know…”
“There’s nothing to it….and if you do a good job I’ll really make it worth your while.”
When I hesitantly moved forward she held my head and stroked my thick blonde hair then gently pulled it forwards until my face was touching her minge. I’d seen enough porn to know what to do, so kissed her warm flaps then parted them with my tongue making her pant. Mmmmm her pussy tasted nice – sweeter than I would have guessed. My tongue was soon gliding up her slit and occasionally I tried to push it into the hole which made her grind her hips against me. It was when she did this I eventually found her clit. I knew because she let out a couple of ‘ooh-oohs’ and a ‘yes baby’. Donna had now lifted up both legs so her heels were digging in my shoulders but it made her pussy feel even tighter as I licked and sucked like a Demon.
“Finger me….finger me.” Donna gasped as her pussy got wetter and wetter. I maneuvered my right hand under her left leg and pulled her flaps apart as my licking on her clit got faster. She virtually sucked my finger into her hole! I jabbed and twisted my long middle finger into her sopping cunt as I tried to make her cum with my tongue. Donna couldn’t sit still and kept grabbing my hair and grinding her twat against my face in her quest for an orgasm. Eventually I had to shift my weight and in doing so one of my fingers brushed against her other hole.
“Ooh…ooh, ooh.” She grunted so I pressed a little harder with the tip, “Yes…yes…do it!” She panted as I slid an inch then two into her arsehole!
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32