My career requires a fair amount of domestic and international travel. Meetings, conferences and consultations often blend my week into dull, routine business activity. The least favorite lunch time activity for me is having lunch with older, stodgy men or young bucks trying to hit on me. I’ve found a resurgence of downtown consignment shops that offer me a pastime for the noon hour. It feels good to get out and stretch my legs and keep my eyes open for top quality item. My “jackpot” is a designer brand in near flawless condition in my size and a color that makes me look sharp.
Today’s lunch break was changed at the last moment to be from 12:00 to 2:00. After checking my voice and e-mail, I had nearly an hour and 45 minutes to stroll around and enjoy the pleasant summer weather. Two blocks into my walk I spotted a narrow consignment shop tucked between two larger businesses. My curiosity could not keep me walking. I had to check things out.
“May I help you find something?” the brunette clerk in her late 20s asked.
“No thanks, I’m just looking” came the automatic response from me.
Rows of clothes and rack upon rack of dresses, suits, slacks and blouses filled the little shop. Although everything looked to be in good condition and of excellent brands, nothing caught my eye.
“Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for? We do have more merchandise back in our stockroom.” the young lady said.
“Well, I am looking for a scarf or handbag for a birthday present for my sister” I lied.
“We have our scarf collection back here. Would you like to see them?” she said as she turned and headed toward the back of the store.
She led me to a large display case with several scarves in and on it. It was a kaleidoscope of Hermes, Ferragamo, Gucci and Vera. There was a cushioned seat that she had me sit down in and began to demonstrate how different scarves coordinated with a variety of wardrobe pieces. A few colors and patterns seemed to literallymade a dull ensemble come alive.
“Did I have a favorite shape or style of scarf?” was her next question.
“Oblong” I blurted out. I could feel myself flush a little bit as thoughts of my scarves forming a silken saddle to caress and tease my clit. Sometimes I have blindfolded myself with the end portion of a long oblong and then teased my nipples slowly with the soft fabric of the free end.
My friendly clerk picked up a half dozen quickly. This lady seemed to really enjoy her work and she began giving me a scarf tying demonstration of ascots, bows, Turbans and hackneys. As I sat and stared at her show, her deft fingers cradled the silk and worked magic. I thought that either she had seen every instructional book or video on using scarves or had written them.
“Oblongs are great because of their versatility.” she said
I caught myself slowly nodding in agreement.
“May I show you?”
More nodding on my part.
“My name is Katherine. I’m half owner with a friend of mine from college. I like making scarves part of nearly all of my outfits.”
She picked up a small remote control device and I watched as the window blinds at the front of the shop were closing and the displays lights were dimming. I’m sure that anyone walking by would get the impression that the shop was closed.
When I turned back, Katherine had removed her top and had her back to me. She was finishing up making a bandeau of one of the scarves. As she turned around, I could see that a single knot was nestled between her well-developed breasts. They tested the tentative support of the fabric. She must have noticed me blushing a bit.
“For me the halter top is better when I go out in public.” she remarked with a smile.
She quickly untied that scarf and tossed it aside on the countertop. She picked up a long, red silk satin scarf and draped it around her neck, twisted it twice tucked it under each breast and ties it behind her back.
“The secret to the halter is ‘not too tight, not too loose’. Let me show you.”
She came over to me and had me stand in front of her. She gently grasped my hand and them took two fingersand slid them under the silky fabric and against her soft flesh.
“It should be snug enough to let you use two fingers, No less. No more.”
I think that I saw her eyes close part way and it was hard for me to keep mine wide open as warm and wet feelings continued to grow in my body. She knew she now had my attention. I knew it too.
“I’d like you to put your hands on the counter.” she suggested
It was like I was almost in a trance-like state that I obeyed her without question. My fingers were submerged in the scarves that covered the display case.
“I’ll show you a complete scarf outfit but you’ll be the model. OK?”
My affirmation was given without words.
“No peeking” was her comment as I saw a folded Hermes come up and cover my eyes.
I had these delicious visions dance through my head as I felt her slowly undress me. Once she had me naked, my hands were loosely bound with soft silk and placed back onto the countertop. I tingled with pleasure as I could feel a scarf halter being placed on me. What I surmised to be a large scarf made a sarong. Katherine took her time testing the fit for me and smoothing the fabric over my curves.
“Feel good?”
Oh I like to nod yes to her questions.
“Let’s go see how we look”
She took me by my bound hands and slowly led me to where I thought the mirrors would be. She stood behind me with herself pressed against my back as she untied my hands and then nimbly plucked of the blindfold. We both admired her work. Her work continued as she readjusted the blue and white scarf cradling my breasts, then she shimmied the large scarf lower down on my hips. The cool silk against my hot flesh was tantalizing.
A single large knot was tied in the heavy fabric. One end of this scarf she tied behind my back around the sash. She then drew it up between my legs and under the sash in the front. Her estimates were impeccable and as she tightened my crotch scarf the knot burrowed into my swollen lips and my climax arrived.
“There now. I think that my work is done for now.” she whispered into my ear as my waves of ecstasy subsided.
Katherine slid my skirt back onto me and then my blouse. Her scarf decorations hiding where my business associates would get no clue about my lunch time adventures. Being a perfectionist to the end she made sure no wrinkles or fabric was out of place.
“What about my panties and bra?” I asked meekly.
“You can pick them up when you come back for lunch tomorrow.” she said with a smile.
I’m counting on that.
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08.11.12