One Small Step

by Lia Monde

 

As I sat on the bench at the mall, I tried to calm myself. I thought I had prepared myself and planned everything. But my breathing was fast, my hands were sweaty and my nerves were wired. I was home for holiday break from college and had decided to take the next step in cross-dressing.

Up until now, most of my dressing had been secretly taking my older sister's underwear. It started when I could no longer resist my curiosity. Finally, one afternoon when I was home alone, I snatched the first pair of her panties that I could find, ran to my room, and quickly pulled them on. It was electric.

As a teenager, my hormones were already racing. This sent them off the chart. My legs felt weak and I could barely stand. I couldn't keep my hands off the panties or myself. They were tight. They were soft. They were smooth. They were pretty. The smell was subtle, but overwhelming. My mind was muddled, but also hyper-sensitive. I was certain every little noise in the house was someone coming home who would discover me. Although I wanted this feeling to last forever, I managed to take them off and return them to my sister's room.

I collapsed on my bed and tried to sort through the rush of feelings and emotions. I was simultaneously scared, guilty, horny, exhilarated, and ashamed for being exhilarated. Mostly, I was confused. It had only lasted a few minutes and my frazzled mind didn't remember all the details, but I knew two things for certain. I would never forget my first panties. They were burned in my memory: deep green nylon fabric with delicate, lacy white trim. And secondly, I knew it wouldn't be my last time wearing woman's lingerie.

My dressing evolved from that life-changing first time. I became adept at sneaking my sister's underwear. Ramona was naturally messy, so it made things easier. I thought I knew her panties better than she did. How she folded and stored the clean ones and where to find her used ones. Which ones were perfumed and might arouse suspicion. Which were her favorites and would be missed. Which ones weren't and could become my regulars. Most importantly, which ones were special and had to be avoided, because someone else wearing them could be easily detected.

I proceeded slowly. Fear of discovery and humiliation was a powerful restraining factor. But complete resistance was out of the question. I never felt as alive as when I slipped the panties up my thighs, snapped them in place and smoothed them over my bottom. Cocaine couldn't have had a stronger grip on me.

Sometimes, there were weeks between panty sessions. Other days, I was obsessed. It was all I could think about and the urges were impossible to resist. In school, I couldn't focus. My mind kept imaging the panties the girls in class were wearing and how they would feel on me. On those days, I rushed home to indulge and release the pent up energy. While I tried to be cautious, sometimes I had to take chances to get a quick fix. Occasionally, I would dress while Ramona or my parents were in the house and sometimes in the room next door. If possible, the risk increased the pleasure.

With time, I expanded beyond panties to discover the pleasures of other female attire. First, other lingerie. Then, the entire feminine wardrobe. But always in private. Ramona was not clothes obsessed, but to me her bedroom was a treasure chest of discovery and desire. I went through phases. For a time, I was obsessed with baby doll nightgowns. Their touch, their frills, their peek-a-boo shortness, drove me crazy. Once, when I was wearing a particularly feminine pink and black baby doll, I was overcome with the compulsion to go public. I wanted to go to the living room, or the park or the school cafeteria and twirl around so everyone could see how pretty I looked and how glowing I felt. How could clothes have such a hold on me?

While I had friends and sports and hobbies and interests, cross-dressing became my secret passion. Ramona's bedroom was always my primary female closet. However, I dabbled elsewhere. Visits to my female cousins were no longer boring, but adventures. Summer jobs provided new opportunities. The mirror became my best friend. I experimented with make-up, but clothing was my love. On several times, it was almost my downfall. I became so enthralled in my fantasies that once I failed to notice Ramona arrive home. She was seconds from seeing me in her favorite above-the-knee, yellow sun dress, complete with bra, camisole, slip, panties and sandals. When she came into the room, I had barely pulled up my shorts (over the floral, high cut briefs). Ramona commented on how pale I looked. I mumbled about coming down with something. She mentioned it to my mother and I got the next day off from school. I used it for an all day dress-up.

When I went away to college things changed. The new setting, high academic demands and the lack of privacy forced me to cut back. On my two weekends home, I binged. Even that was unsatisfying. Ramona was also away at school and most of her best clothes were with her. My mother's clothes would do in a pinch, but they were the wrong size and unstylish.

That's what brought me to the mall. I had resolved it was time to move from panty thief to panty purchaser. I wanted something that was truly my own. Panties that were sexy to me because I had selected them, not because they were available.

It was soon apparent that it was easier to resolve, than to act. But, I was determined. Over the last couple of days, I had thought about little else. I had chosen an average department store in a mall away from my home, to minimize the likelihood of meeting anyone I knew. It was also a weeknight and shortly before closing in the hope there would be few customers. The holidays helped with my "cover story". If anyone asked, I'd say the purchase was to be a special present for my girlfriend. I figured that if I looked nervous, that would be normal for many men in a similar situation. Finally, I had worked out back-up plans. At worst, I could simply walk out. Or, I could just buy anything and be in and out in minutes. At least, it would pop my cherry and I would no longer be a panty buying virgin. As I sat on the bench and went over these plans, I became calmer and more confident. I took a deep breath, said "Now or never" to myself, and headed into the store.

I stopped just outside the woman's department to check things out. As I hoped, it was relatively uncrowded. A few customers strolled around absorbed in their own shopping. The clerks seemed busy at the registers. The time seemed ripe. I entered at a slow walk. I didn't want to seem too determined and it gave me a chance to furtively look around and get my bearings. I was in dangerous and foreign territory. The lingerie department was in the back. I hesitated. So far, I was just walking through the store. Crossing that threshold seemed to be something more. An inner sanctum. Forbidden. Taboo. But as much as some part of me was pushed off, a stronger part was drawn in. My thoughts had shifted from determination, to a strong and willing attraction. I entered.

Once inside, my perspective seemed to shift. My reluctance and fear were momentarily replaced with awe and excitement. I couldn't believe how huge the lingerie department seemed. The men's department had a few shelves for underwear. This seemed to go on for endless aisles and corners and cubbies. It must have covered half of the floor. As I took it in, I became a little overwhelmed. My eyes were awash with sensation. Everything was silks and frills, bows and lace. A rainbow of colors. The whole department seemed soft and pretty and girlish, and somehow welcoming. My well-planned calm was in pieces. My skin was tingling, my hormones raced, my penis aroused.

I wasn't prepared for the choices. Where to start? I checked my watch. Less than 30 minutes until closing. I had to get to it. A quick look around revealed just a couple of women off at a safe distance and a single clerk at the register. Perfect isolation. I moved further into wonderland. I fought to keep a silly kid-in-a-candy-store grin off my face. The panties were spread throughout the department depending on material and brand. It dawned on me that I had no idea specifically what I wanted. The infinity of choices wasn't helping. If I was rich, I would have bought one of everything. But I had a very limited budget, so I forced myself to focus. I moved toward a display of panties against the wall, more because they were away from people than a decision they were what I wanted.

I quickly became engrossed. I touched some panties hanging on the racks and the air seemed to buzz. I hadn't thought I wanted plain white. But some of these were too gorgeous for words. Ruffles and trim. My mind imagined them slowly moving up my legs and I almost had an orgasm. I no sooner saw and touched and imagined one pair, then the next beckoned. No wonder girls had so many pairs of panties. The miracle was that they didn't have more. So many styles – bikinis, briefs, thongs, tap pants, boy shorts. I drifted among the aisles. An ocean of colors – beige, black, white, hot red, deep green, baby blue, pale yellow, royal purple, metallic silver, gold, racy champagne. And pink. Everywhere pink! My favorite PINK! The design selection was even larger – dots, stripes, contrasts. Cute bunnies, lovable puppies and silly sayings. How was a girl to choose? My reverie continued as I soaked it all in.

"Can I help you?"

I jumped. Then turned, and then froze. A pair of frilly, sheer, pink panties were clutched in my right hand. I was so lost in my fantasy that I hadn't noticed the salesgirl approach. With the abrupt return to reality, all my fears came back in a wave. They were compounded by the surprise.

"I'm sorry I startled you", she said with a look of concern on her face.

"Th…that's OK", I stammered, trying to slow my hammering heart and regain my composure.

She looked at the panties in my hand and said, "Those are very pretty. Would you like them?"

Before I could think, I said with a little too much excitement, "Yes, very much!" Then quickly realizing how that might sound, I added, "I mean no. I mean maybe." Suddenly, this shopping trip seemed like a very bad idea.

She looked at me quizzically. I'm slight of build and a little shorter than most boys and she was just a little shorter than me. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with shoulder length brown hair pulled together in the back. She wasn't stunning, but had a healthy glow and an overall attractive, girl-next-door appearance. None of this was going through my conscious mind. It was quickly beginning to think solely about escape. But in the tight aisle, I would have had to rudely push past her. I stalled for time until I could make a break.

"What I mean is, I don't know. I'm trying to find a special present for my girlfriend. For the holiday. I'm afraid I don't know very much about this and I don't know where to start." Telling the story I had planned helped me regain my balance a little.

"Oh", she said with a nod. "That's fine. Don't be nervous. That's what I'm here for. I'm an expert. My name is Elizabeth."

Relaxing a little further, but still on guard, I replied, "My name's Kelly".

"That's a very nice name," she said with a warm smile. "So Kelly, let's get started. As you can see, we have lots of selections." Elizabeth waved her arm toward the merchandise and slowly started to move me further into the store. Perhaps she'd dealt with nervous customers before and didn't want to lose a sale by letting me get too close to the exit. "We have some of the best brands. All sorts of materials and designs. Do you have any ideas at all?"

"No cotton", I said.

"Of course", she nodded. "For a special present, something a little sexier."

"Yah", I mumbled, "That's what I was thinking".

"Good, that helps. Let's look over here." We moved past rows of treasures, to a section that, if possible, had even more erotic panties. She started to show me the merchandise. She had me feel some on hangers and held them up from bins. "These are all very pretty, aren't they?"

I just nodded my agreement. As my tension subsided, I got more back into the business at hand. A little excitement started to stir in my belly again. I began examining the panties with a more critical eye. With Elizabeth's willing help, I might just pull this off.

"So no cotton. Any ideas on styles? Perhaps a thong or bikini?" Elizabeth suggested.

Continuing to finger a pair of beautiful, electric blue panties, I said offhandedly, "No thongs. I was thinking more about high cut briefs or tap pants with some delicate lace trim".

Elizabeth stopped and turned to stare at me. She seemed to ponder for a minute, and then did a quick scan of my body, as if focusing on it for the first time. "You said you didn't know anything about this. You sound like quite the expert."

I did a mental head slap. Why couldn't I keep focused? Of course most men wouldn't talk about panty styles so casually and with such knowledge. This lingerie, and the anticipation, and the pleasure were disorientating me. I tried to quickly recover, "I…I think those are styles she mentioned."

She still seemed suspicious. Most of her previous talk had been light and airy. Now she continued in what seemed a more determined and inquisitive manner, "What size are we looking for?"

This was one of the things I had prepared for, "Size 7". That was the size of one of Ramona's panties that fit me best.

Elizabeth smiled a little. She eyed my waist and hips as if making a professional assessment. Then she nodded to herself as if confirming a theory. I began to worry. "Size 7", she repeated. "That's about the size a girl with your build would wear."

My throat tightened. I didn't like the way this was heading. I didn't know what to say, and before I could say anything, Elizabeth pressed on.

She paused for a second, as if doing a mental calculation, then looked me in the eye and asked, "What's this special girlfriend's name?"

My eyes widened. "Excuse me?" I croaked.

"You're buying these panties for a special person. What's her name?"

I felt pole axed and began to panic. My mind was blank. I hadn't expected such a question and I'm sure my jaw dropped. I couldn't speak.

Elizabeth crossed her arms, shifted her weight from one hip to the other, and tilted her head to one side. She seemed to enjoy my discomfit. She kept me in her gaze. Her smile almost said she had solved a puzzle.

I knew hundreds of girl's names. But they all seemed to disappear. As the seconds stretched, my deception seemed more and more obvious. In desperation, I glanced around. My eyes fell on some panties with a floral pattern. My lips moved before my mind could think. "Rose", came out in a weak squeak. "Her name is Rose." As I said it, my face involuntarily squinched, as though even I didn't believe it.

Her eyes followed mine to the floral panties, and then returned to my face. We both knew she had caught me in a lie. We both knew I was trying to buy panties for myself.

I flushed beet red. My shoulders drooped. My eyes began to water. I was certain that she would call security and have me removed or arrested as a pervert. I glanced toward the exit and started to step away.

Elizabeth moved to block my departure. "I think I better go", I mumbled.

She touched my arm gently and it was enough to stop my flight. She whispered in a low voice, "There's no need to leave. Everything will be alright."

I looked at her face and some hope glimmered in my despair. Her face seemed open. No trace of anger or disgust. Still, I was torn. Part of me wanted to leave and avoid further risk and embarrassment. Another part felt I had come too far to leave empty handed. I glanced again at the exit.

"I'm certain I can help you," Elizabeth continued. Then she smiled and winked.

It tilted the balance. I decided to stay. "OK," was all I could muster.

"Great," she beamed. "Now Kelly, why don't you go look in those bins. There's no one back there. I'll take care of these last customers and then we can spend some time together." I still didn't move. "Go on now", she said. "I'll only be a minute". She gave a gentle nudge with her hip toward the back of the store. I walked off in a docile daze.

Elizabeth waited a second to make sure I'd keep going. Then turned and moved off to the cash register. As I glanced back, I noticed for the first time her black patterned pantyhose. I also followed the gentle sway of her hips under the short, pleated skirt. My penis stirred. Amazing. Even under extreme stress, primitive urges emerge. I shook my head and checked my watch. Closing time. I didn't care. I was putting myself in Elizabeth's hands and just seeing where it took me.

True to her word, she was back very quickly. "There," she exhaled in a friendly and reassuring voice as she rubbed her hands together. "It's just the two of us. The store is closed. No one will back come here. We can get down to some serious shopping."

Her casual manner and talking like this was a normal, everyday occurrence drained my tension away. In fact, it relaxed and excited me.

She looked at me and said, "Let's buy that special present for a special person."

It warmed my insides. I smiled and nodded.

"You said 'no thongs'. I can't blame you. They're a pain in the ass", she said without a trace of irony. "And 'no bikinis'. Let me guess. Not enough coverage." She glanced at me for confirmation.

I expected to be embarrassed by such a question from a stranger. But she was so professional, it seemed perfectly normal. I simply said, "Yah, that's right."

"No problem. We still have plenty of choices. First, we have to get this size thing down. How did you decide on a size 7?"

I was relaxing, but I didn't want to go into a long story about filching Ramona's panties. I gulped and shrugged and said, "They just seemed right."

Elizabeth took it in stride. I liked her more by the minute. She started to instruct me in the mysteries of lingerie. "You see Kelly, there are no standard sizes. Each company sizes their panties and bras differently. With panties, some label larger sizes a little lower, because every girl wants to feel smaller. It's the opposite with some bra manufacturers. It makes it all very confusing, even for experts. You just have to try them on for comfort until you learn how the brand fits you. Let me show you." She moved around the bins and racks expertly snatching up a variety of racy, high cut briefs.

She laid them out on the counter. "These are all size 7's. But they are all different." She held a couple of pairs together by the waistband and put them right in front of my face. "See. The front ones are much smaller."

I noticed the difference, but I was looking more at how pretty they both looked and getting more aroused by their proximity. I'd be thrilled to own any of them regardless of the slight variation in size. I licked my lips. Elizabeth noticed my excitement and said, "Easy girl. Try to stay focused."

I giggled. This was becoming fun. In all of my worry about my first shopping trip, I never imagined it could be fun. Elizabeth returned to sorting among the panties. I looked at her more closely. Maybe it was because she was so kind and non-judgmental, but she seemed to emanate an energy and intelligence. She was different from you're garden-variety, minimum wage sales clerk.

"Do you work here full-time?" I asked.

"No. This is part-time," she said absently, engrossed in the business of finding merchandise. "I'm a grad student at the university. This helps pay the bills, and I get a great discount on my clothes."

She scooped up the half a dozen pairs she had collected and handed them to me. "I want you to go into the dressing room and try these on to see which fit best."

I recoiled a little. Not panic, just hesitation. I had achieved a number of breakthroughs this evening. However, I didn't think I was ready to try on panties. In a public place. With a girl I barely knew.

"I don't think I need to do that," I said. "I think I can just buy one of these. They'll be fine"

"Don't be silly. I want all my customers to be satisfied," she said earnestly.

"Oh, I'll be satisfied," I said with a grin, getting into the friendly banter.

"I'm sure you will," she said with a knowing smirk. "But seriously. We're just friends here. It's the same I do for all my serious customers." She again touched my arm gently. This time it sent a buzz through me. "You're a first time shopper, right?"

"Yes".

She leaned closer, "Well, we want to get it correct, don't we?"

Her closeness was arousing me. I shifted my hips to try and move my penis to a more comfortable position. She glanced down and noticed it clearly straining in my jeans.

She smiled, but ignored the distraction and continued, "Look Kelly, it will make it a lot easier the next time. When else are you going to get this kind of help?"

Her logic seemed impeccable. But in my addled state, I wasn't sure if my mind or my penis was in control. I asked, "Where's the dressing room?"

Elizabeth smiled again, stepped back and led me around the corner to the dressing room. She stopped at the first cubicle and pulled back the curtain. It was much nicer than the men's changing room. It was roomier and had a nice padded bench on one side.

"There you go," she said and gave me a gentle pat on my butt as I stepped in. This was becoming too much for me to keep straight. Was she flirting with me, or was I so overwhelmed with my good fortune and the excitement that I couldn't think straight? "Try those on and tell me which fits the best," she said while closing the curtain. "I'll scout around for some more. Is pink OK?"

"More than OK," I replied.

I heard a sweet laugh as she walked away.

I dropped the panties on the bench and removed my shoes and pants. When I took off my briefs, my engorged penis sprung out. I gave it a gentle slap to try and get it under control. I told myself that this was serious and the fun could come later. I wanted to do this quickly and without shooting a load in the dressing room. Elizabeth had been more than friendly and helpful, but I doubted she'd be amused if I spurted on the merchandise.

I picked a pair of panties at random from the pile. Well, semi-at-random. My hand seemed to go involuntarily for a pink pair. They were cute and I couldn't help but smile as I examined them. Sensuous fabric. Lace on the sides. Scallops around the openings. And a darling little bow at the waistband. My heart literally fluttered. I rubbed them on my cheek, and then quickly pulled them up my legs.

The familiar electricity shot through my body. Intensified by the setting and by the idea that these panties could be mine. Not borrowed. Not stolen. But selected, paid for, and cherished. There was no hope of my erection going down now. It throbbed and grew even stiffer. If it was a panty meter, it was gonging off the chart. I heard Elizabeth return.

"How's it going in there?" she asked.

"Fine," I answered, certain that my arousal came through in my strained voice. It was not helped by the fact that I was half naked and a hot girl was only a thin curtain away.

"I meant the size," she replied with a little happy lilt.

Her question brought me back to reality and I tried to examine the panties analytically, not emotionally. Regrettably, I had to admit they appeared to be too small. "These are great, but a little tight," I said with disappointment.

"Give them to me and I'll see if they come in a larger size."

I peeled them off and handed them to her over the curtain.

She said, "Here's a couple more to try." Three more pairs came around the curtain. They were all shades of pink. But all different and all beautiful. I almost swooned. I was never going to be able to choose. As Elizabeth went in search of a larger size, I set about the business of sorting. I moved through the pile as fast as I could, trying each on in succession. I struggled mightily to stay focused on the fit and not the erotic feeling they all gave me. I had eliminated some and even narrowed the choices down to ones I could purchase. When Elizabeth returned, I was modeling a particular favorite in hot pink and with ruffles in all the right places. I almost pranced around the dressing room trying to get views from different angles. I didn't think I was a ruffles kind of girl, but these were adorable. I caught myself in mid-thought. Had I just referred to myself as a girl? That had never happened before. In all my panty wearing experiences, I had always remained firmly a man in my mind. Aroused by both the lingerie, and by thoughts of women. I had masturbated to orgasm dozens of times in panties. But my fantasies always involved women, even when I wore women's clothes in those fantasies. I had pondered what it all meant for my sexual orientation. However, this was a new twist. Was I not only a panty wearer, but a wannabee lesbian? I didn't have time to pursue that emotionally charged question.

"I found the next size. Any more progress?" came the voice from just outside the curtain.

"I think I'm about set. Several pairs seemed to fit perfectly." I said as I pulled up my shirt and bent over to get a better look at my ruffled behind. Suddenly, Elizabeth stepped in around the curtain. I actually squealed as I gasped "Elizabeth!" I had never felt so exposed. I took a quick step to the corner with my back to Elizabeth and looked over my shoulder in horror.

"Oh, don't be a baby," she said matter-of-factly. "It's getting late and we have to make sure they really are a good fit. And we've already determined you're not an expert."

"But…but...I'm wearing panties," I protested, realizing how non-sensical that sounded.

"Yes," she responded very practically. "That's what we're here for, remember."

While she seemed unperturbed, I was anything but. Despite all my claims to masculinity, I was acting like a flustered school girl.

Elizabeth continued with a little more calming sympathy in her voice and on her face. "I'm sorry I startled you. I thought you were getting relaxed." She stepped forward and patted my shoulder. The cubicle suddenly got smaller. "We're past embarrassment. You're not the first man to shop here for his panties, you know." My reaction told her I hadn't considered that possibility. "Oh, come on dear. You don't think you're the only boy who loves the feel of silk and lace," she giggled. "It happens all the time. Though not all the men keep themselves in as good shape as you do," she said, giving my body a quick scan.

I was too confused to appreciate the compliment, but the knowledge that I wasn't the first man Elizabeth had helped buy panties did have a beneficial effect. My shoulders relaxed slightly and I caught my breath. She noticed the change and took charge. "If a girl can't trust her panty saleswoman, who can she trust," she said returning the atmosphere to a lighter level. "Now step over here so I can take a look," she said while pulling me toward the center of the room. I didn't resist, but I still wasn't ready to turn around. I back slowly toward her, with short, girlish steps. She took a step back and looked at my bum. "Pull up your shirt, so I can get a look," she said, tapping her index finger on her lips.

I did as she said.

"Nice, very nice," she said with a nod. She stepped forward and ran her hand across my pink ruffled behind. I stiffened, but didn't move. I smelled a soft whiff of her sweet perfume. That, in combination with her hand on my behind revived my deflated organ. Elizabeth continued her examination. She smoothed the fabric across my ass. Her hand lingered a moment and then gave it a little rub. "Yes, very nice indeed," she said slightly breathless, or was that just my racing imagination. "I think these are a good fit," she said softly. Next she slipped a finger under the opening at my right leg, massaged it, then snapped the elastic back in place.

My cheeks were burning. Both sets. I don't know what she was thinking, but I was getting close to losing control. Much more of this and these panties would be filling with my spurting sperm.

Elizabeth tilted her head forward and whispered in my ear, "Take your shirt off. We need to get rid of the obstruction."

I started for the top button, but apparently was too slow. She leaned into me, reached around and began to open my shirt. Her breasts were pressed against my back. They were aroused and firm and she moved them slowly back and forth. Even in my overheated state, I knew this time, it wasn't my imagination.

I moved my head back and breathed, "Elizabeth" toward the ceiling.

She continued to remove my shirt and massage her tits across my back. Now her hips pressed against my ass and joined the motion. Between heavy, quick breaths, she said, "Oh Rose, beautiful Rose."

She called me Rose. Not Kelly. Rose. I shot her a glance. Her eyes were closed. Her face flushed. She wasn't being sarcastic. She was enveloped in passion. I didn't bother to correct her; I was lost in my own ecstasy.

When my shirt dropped to the floor, she spun me around and gave me a hot, lingering kiss. I responded by drawing her toward me and wrapping my arms around her. My erection was painfully obvious as it stretched the panties and pressed against her vagina. We kissed and tongued and ground into each other.

She was still fully clothed and all I had on were a pair of pink panties. And with my erection, I was barely in those. I leaned back and reached to undo the buttons on her blouse. She stopped me.

"No. I can't wait." She moved my hands to her behind, reclosed her eyes and leaned against my chest. I didn't hesitate. I reached both hands under her soft, pleated skirt and slid them up her legs. I quickly realized she wasn't wearing pantyhose, but stockings. I should have expected it from a lingerie salesgirl. I lingered at their lacy top and rubbed the insides of her thighs. She moaned and her movements urged me on. Miraculously, I hadn't come, but it wouldn't be much longer. My balls were quivering.

I reached her panties. They were beyond moist, they were soaked. I twisted her slightly and placed one hand on her ass and the other firmly on her vagina. She responded by pressing forward into my palm. I started a slow circular motion in both the front and back. Despite being lost in her own universe of pleasure, Elizabeth moved her hand to engulf my penis through the panties. She started a rhythmic massage that matched my own on her clitoris.

We both seemed to be moving toward the edge and accelerated the pace. Through clenched teeth, she murmured, "Faster, Rose, faster."

I slipped my hand into her panties and rotated it even more swiftly. Within moments, she stiffened, her tongue slipped between her teeth, her body shook, and my hand was soaked with liquid pouring out of her vagina. At the same time, her hand spasmed on my prick and sperm erupted. We were both lost in orgasmic nirvana for several minutes and clung to each other to keep from falling.

As her breathing slowed and Elizabeth regained her senses, she turned her face to mine. Tiny beads of perspiration had formed above her upper lip. She gave me a quick soft kiss and pulled away. She swept the panties aside and plopped down on the bench. I joined her.

Elizabeth leaned her head back and giggled; "Now that's a special holiday present." We looked at each other and laughed. The sex had been more raw, pent-up animal heat than seduction and skill, but we both seemed extremely satisfied. Even sitting here in panties, in an absurd situation, I was fully at ease for the first time in weeks. Elizabeth leaned over and kissed my cheek. "We better get cleaned up."

She rolled forward and pulled some tissues from her purse. She handed me some and then stood up. As she pulled up her skirt to clean herself, I actually saw her bikini panties for the first time. They were pink. Pink background with chocolate colored polka dots and lace trim. They had pink ribbons at the waist on each side. I stared shamelessly. My loins stirred. I wasn't sure if her body or her panties excited me more. I decided it was probably both.

"I love your panties," I said.

She looked down as if to remind herself which pair she was wearing, then grinned, "You do have good taste." She glanced at the cum drenched panties I was futilely trying to clean. She pointed at them and said, "Let me repeat the question I asked you earlier. Would you like those?"

I answered the same way I had earlier, "Yes, very much!" But there was no retraction this time. It brought the giggles back to both of us.

"Good. I think you should wear them."

I hadn't thought about it, but it seemed the obvious and normal thing to do. "I think I will." She reached over and expertly removed the tag. How could I be so comfortable, in such a bizarre situation, with a woman I had known for less than 90 minutes? I gazed at Elizabeth with something akin to wonder.

She patted her skirt straight. "Have you decided which other ones you'll take?"

"Just these," I said holding up another pair I had decided upon before our tryst.

"That's all. After all my salesmanship," she teased.

"I'm afraid I'm on a tight budget," I shrugged.

She took the panties from my hand and said, "Buy two more. I'll use my discount and it will cost almost the same." My night kept getting better and better. "You get dressed and pick two more pairs. I'll start to ring these up and close the register." She took a glance in the mirror to ensure she didn't look disheveled, picked up her purse and left the dressing room. "Don't be long, dear," she said back over her shoulder.

I pulled on my clothes. The wet panties under my jeans felt warm and sexy. I decide on the bonus panties and followed Elizabeth to the register. She took the final two panties and rang them up and told me the price.

Given all that had happened, it would have been a bargain at twice the cost. I handed over the cash.

"With every holiday purchase, you also get a little gift." She showed me a small bottle of perfume and slipped it into the bag. I felt a quiver of joy at the freebie. Elizabeth gave me the change, put the receipt in the bag and handed it to me. Before she released it, she looked in my eyes and said, "I hope you'll be very happy with your purchase, Rose." She appeared to be waiting to see my reaction.

Rose. Not in the passion of the moment, but later. Calm and deliberate. Rose. It seemed weird. It also seemed right. I'd have a lot to think about when I got home. For now, I just smiled with genuine warmth and said, "Thank you, darling Elizabeth. I'm sure I'll love them."

She shook with pleasure, stepped around the counter and gave me a hug. "Since the store is closed, I'll have to walk you out. Let me grabbed my coat." I waited while she went to the storeroom. My brain was starting to slow down but it was still spinning. I relived the night's events. So much had happened on so many levels. I couldn't get my mind around it. But I knew, for the moment, it was all good.

Elizabeth returned. She slipped her arm through mine and we headed for the exit. She looked up with a sly grin on her face and said, "Rose, it's still early. How would you like to come back to my apartment? Maybe we could play with your new toys." Then she pinched my ass.

Rose, again. I was beginning to like the sound of it. I pulled her close and said, "That would be wonderful."

  

  

  

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