Passion killer.  

nightstogether 56M
818 posts
6/19/2005 5:59 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

Passion killer.

Not all passion killers come in the form of sensible underwear. The passion killer which preys most on my mind, and which some claim has a mind of its own, hangs (mostly) between my legs.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not moaning about what I've been given, and I am not saying that what I have is going to either freak anyone out or cause them to fall over laughing but, on this one occasion, it was a passion killer.

I needed a new suit. The suit that I wished to have was offered for sale in Harrods, London and there was only one sales assistant. This particular sales assistant was a touch older then me - I was eighteen at the time - and had been casting her eye at me from the moment I walked into the department. I thought, at first, it was the wary look of someone who doesn't believe that you should be there, but her mind was decidedly elsewhere. When I picked out the suit she was right beside me and ready to serve.

I went into one of the cabins and changed, just having time to pull the trousers up before she opened the curtain and, her eyes decidedly not looking at my face, asked if I needed assistance. She closed the curtain before I had time to reply, from the inside.

Changing cabins are small. They're not designed for two people. We stood remarkably close to one another.

She began to check the suit for size, helping me into the jacket, pulling up the trousers a touch and tucking my shirt in at the front - very slowly. As her hand caressed the front of the trousers - to pull up the flies, of course - parts began to stir. Her hand did not move to the zipper quickly, but my parts were already showing their intent to escape.

She asked me whether I dressed left or right, but didn't wait for an answer, coming around to the front and helping me out of the jacket once more, her breasts brushing against my chest for long seconds. She allowed her hands to drift across my backside, to see if the fit was right, and then tugged at the trouser belt, causing more than a tingle to run up and down my spin. She told me she'd look and see whether I dressed left or right and, hands holding firmly onto the front of my trousers, she squatted down in front of me, zipped the flies back down and eased my prospective trousers sown around my knees.

It was clear what state I was in. She looked up at me and then back down at the stirring, before slipping her fingers around my underwear and beginning to ease them down.

I, in the meantime was completely hard and getting more so as I saw her licking her lips - I have a thing for tongues anyway.

The fabric of my underwear slid down and snagged slightly on the head of my dick. With a slight flick of her wrist, the sales assistant released it from its prison, allowing it to spring upwards, smack her on the chin and cause her to bite her tongue.

private-intellectual (.de)

cajunpet 70M
1185 posts
6/19/2005 7:05 am


Take care.
Keep On Blogging!!!! Have a great day.

Cajun Pet

GoddessOfTheDawn 105F
11240 posts
6/19/2005 7:41 am

ouchiez .....


papyrina 51F
21133 posts
6/19/2005 1:22 pm

OUchi must shop in Harrods more often though.

I'm a

i'm here to stay

redswallow777 48M
6810 posts
6/20/2005 4:30 pm

Great story...too bad I never made it past the food department!

keithcancook 60M
17859 posts
6/21/2005 5:43 am

ah, those unexpected pleasures... nice one nights!

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