Reward

REWARD
Read on Mainstream Erotica


After a long week at work I decide to treat myself to a little shopping, again. It is a sweltering day outside and the air conditioning in my car is broken, and the controlled climate inside of the department store is more than welcoming. It seems that not many people have the same idea, as there are relatively few other patrons wandering the floor and the sales associates all greet in unison while I walk through the double glass doors and pass the registers.
One young man I recognize from the shoe department, he having spent a great deal of time with me when I was having trouble choosing between a few pairs during my last visit. Patient, courteous, and somewhat handsome, I wish that he could help me with today’s selections. It seems as if he can barely squeak out a welcome as I stride past the service desk and round the corner to the petite section. Deciding that I need matching lingerie I make my way to the racks of colorful sets. As I rifle through the sizes to get to my own I see from the corner of my eye the brawny clerk move to the sandal display closest to the isle, stop, and cross his hands at his waist as if to wait for the first potential customer of the morning.
Selecting panties is a daunting task, as the styles all are sexy and my size is (always) on the lowest rack. As I kneel down, fingering through the peach and black satin full-backs, I feel a weighted stare beam from the shoe department across the empty store. I pretend not to notice but situate my feet so that my crouched stance invites his eyes to stay fixated.
I can feel his heart stop beating as I reach—notice his gaping mouth from my peripheral vision—and immediately I can feel my endowments becoming engorged, reaching for the floor and begging to become visible. For a brief moment, in my mind, it is only he and me in the store and I am shifting the white mesh cloth aside to reveal my excitement. A coworker approaches him and I shift back into reality, hoping that he will not leave his greeting post. After a few words she walks off and he remains, shifting the sandals on display.
Clearly he likes the tension I am building, and the thought of this causes a smirk to drift across my face as I rise to examine the panties I have retrieved. The two of us are monitoring one another’s every move while attempting to conceal the game to others. Unfortunately for him, the consequences would be greater should our game be discovered. Something tells me that he finds enjoyment in taking the risk.
So, I raise the stakes. With one hand I unfasten the top buttons of my blouse, just enough to allow a slight spilling out of cleavage. Not only has he ceased breathing once again, I can sense his body temperature surge. He moves slightly behind the display as if to hide any evidence of his own reactions but remains in a position to where the view is unobstructed. Still not making eye contact, I slide my free hand under my blouse and briefly caress my now tingling, fleshy, hardened peaks between two fingers. Again, his mouth gapes.
In his mind I know that he is still debating whether or not my actions are intended for him while at the same time imagining my blouse completely cast aside. “Are you finding everything alright, Miss,” a youthful, feminine voice asks from behind me. How she snuck up I haven’t a clue but the surprise does not phase me. With my back still to her and my fingers still in their supple playground, I smirk, tilt my head over my shoulder and reply “Thank you, I believe that I will be leaving with everything that I need and more.”
I round the display so that I am facing my captive audience, once again, and then kneel down to retrieve a black and red pair. As my cleavage spills forth I know that the young man can see the darkened pinkish brown portion of skin which I intentionally left peeking out from beneath the white satin undergarment. I linger in this position for a few long moments, then rise and fondle my selections before me. I can see him nearly hugging the display table, sense the combination of frustration and lust, and decide to make my way to the discounted pump section.
The telephone rings and his coworker promptly answers as I move past the register and hone in on a pair of Ferrari red 4” heels—making two outfits potentially complete. As I examine them the images come to mind, how salacious they would make me feel, and for a brief moment I forget the game that I was in the middle of playing. “Good morning, ma`am. Please let me know if there is something that I can do to help you,” a confident-toned voice approaches me from behind. As I turn the young man stands still before me—his hands firmly cupped just beneath his belt buckle. I smile, stare deep into his eyes, and his shoulders drop slightly. “I left very pleased on my last visit,” I whisper, my eyes shifting onto his name tag. “Robert, I assure you that your assistance will be well-rewarded this time.”
He pretends to not comprehend what I am relaying, though I can tell from the color of his face that he does. “May I take those to a dressing room for you,” he asks, referring to the items draped over my arm. “Let’s do something different, Robert,” I breathe, moving into his chest. “I was thinking something along the lines of you coming back into the room with me. See, the only way to know whether these shoes are going to work or not is if you see them with these petticoats and lingerie. Will you help this lady out,” I sweetly beg, twisting my hips into him, my scent onto his suit.
His eyes widen as he looks down upon me for a few long seconds, then he lifts his head and scans the immediate vicinity. “Please allow me take those and escort you to the room.”
I opt for the spacious, mirror-laden handicap section in the back and after he opens the door I ask him to place the items on one bench, closest to the entrance, and sit on the other. I stand before him, his eyes glazed and fist somewhat clenched, and slowly remove my skirt then unfasten the four remaining buttons of my blouse. His eyes move up and down the length of my body as I slip it over my shoulders and cast it onto the floor beside me.
Placing one heel on the surface next to him I draw my nearly naked body closer, and stop with my warm flesh just out of reach. Slowly I scratch around his ear, finger through his slightly stiffened black hair, and then guide his attention down to my other wandering fingers. One nudges the side seam of my white mesh panties aside, wiggles around the soft surface, and then dives into the hidden moisture. It seems that it has accumulated rather quickly, which he can hear with every swish of my finger.
“Robert, my kitty is purring. Can you hear it,” I ask, unsheathing the glistening digit and bringing it just before his lips. His shoulders fall limp, head leans onto the mirror behind him, and he castes a hard glare. “Your pussy smells like it needs attention,” he growls, nearly under his breath. “Is that so,” I whisper, sinking my finger into his beckoning mouth. “What does it taste like?” Moaning in response, eyes now shut and rolled upwards, he pushes my lower back into his pulsating endowment, and my chest into his face. “…like it needs to be bent over…” His fingers dance downward to my string-laden pucker, then nudge the seam slightly inside.
Slowly peeling myself from him I turn around and stand, heeled feet shoulder-width apart. Bending forward to fully expose my undercarriage, I hastily jerk the tiny piece of cloth aside. “What does it look like?” I back myself farther onto him. I can feel his breath drifting over every fold, between every crevice. “…like it needs to be fucked.” I reach behind me, cup the base of his head, and steer it forward into the surface of my dripping cavern.
His tongue moves meticulously up and down, lapping every portion of exposed sweetness. I cannot keep still—my hips gyrating slightly to his rhythm—but he holds me firmly in place by my hips.
“ROBERT, PLEASE RETURN TO THE SERVICE DESK. THANK YOU,” an alarmed voice announces over the intercom. He stops breathing, backs off, and as I turn I see his jaw drop and eyes widen. “I am going to continue trying everything on. It’s best that you get going before they come looking for you.” It took him a few long moments to gather himself then he tip toed out of the dressing room, slightly bent at the hips.
. With every item I thought of his tongue lifting every portion that made firm contact with my skin, his firm member so deserving of an intense grinding…slathering. After a half an hour or so I finish and make my way out onto the now lively retail floor. Robert is clearly handling returns while his red-headed coworker stands beside him at the register, three customers waiting for her to cut her phone call short. I stand patiently at the back of her line, hang my new playthings on the rack beside me, and retrieve a pen and business card from my purse.
By the time I make it to the register the young lady is answering another incoming call but does manage to look up and briefly smile as she recites the total. She turns sideways to the credit card terminal and I slip the piece of paper across the counter, not caring what Robert’s current customer thinks. I sign my name and head for the exit.
Before stepping out into the sidewalk I glance back over my shoulder to the register. He’s squinting, looking down, and mouthing… “I can hear it…calling out your name….”

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