Lacy Things

She walked across the aisle, her eyes delving into each of the wired bins in the center of the store.  A myriad of colors caught her attention, and she reached down to handle them. The young woman loved the feel of silk, and didn’t mind the sensation of cotton.  But she absolutely could not resist the temptation of lace.

Krystal wasn’t the kind of girl who found herself attractive.  She had a very innocent appreciation for her looks and found the gazes sent her way whenever she entered a room inexplicable.  She thought her appearance modest at best, and very rarely noticed the attention that was received.

Low self-esteem left the beautiful woman alone for most of her life, since men consistently had taken advantage of her generous, benevolent nature.  Despite her penchant for being a little oblivious to the men flocking around her, she always had friends close by to keep them in line.  A sisterhood of spies, they worked together like a pack of wolves making sure any man who abused the good-natured girl was quickly tracked down like prey and devoured.

Such a scenario had led Krystal to the lingerie store that evening.  For the first time in a long while, she opened her heart up completely to her latest boyfriend, leaving her emotions entirely exposed.  Apparently, no matter how much her heart was opened, it wasn’t opened wider than his gymnast ex-girlfriend’s legs.  Although it had been weeks since she found him “testing her flexibility” on her own kitchen counter top, Krystal still felt entirely unsexy.

A strand of her long wavy blonde hair fell from the side of her head, obscuring her vision as she lifted up a silky red bra.  She whipped her neck to the side, tossing the unkempt tress to a more manageable position.

The subtle movement allowed her to notice him for the first time in the corner of her eye. Perusing a column of shelves on the other side of the store, a man with dark features and entrancing eyes stared back at her for only a while longer before he realized she was no longer focused on the bra between her hands.  He quickly averted his gaze and looked back at the shelves of lingerie in front of him.

Krystal grinned.  It was the first time she had seen that shy awkwardness in a man for as long as she could remember.  While he tried unsuccessfully to shield his intentions, she took the time to scrutinize every bit of her mysterious admirer.

The man was wearing white collar clothing.  A nice button-up shirt couldn’t hide the fact that his arms were bulky and toned.  His sleeves were rolled up, and she could see his flexed forearms reaching into a pair of dark slacks.  Those pants, just like his top, accentuated his physique.  As he turned to look on the opposite set of shelves, she homed in on his tight butt like a surface-to-ass missile.

She could definitely have fun with that one.

His dark hair was medium length, just thick and long enough to play with.  The thought alone sent tingles to the tips of her fingers.  He looked away, abandoning the shelves to stare blankly at a rack of sheer stockings behind him.  The way his eyes scanned the items with unfocused determination made her assume the man was clearly there to look at women and not make any purchases for a lover… or himself.  She noticed the five o’clock shadow on his face – it looked good on him.  His tanned skin looked even more impressive underneath the store’s fluorescent lights.

Her eyebrows lifted for a moment as she considered her next move.

There was surely some lingerie in that direction that she could be interested in.

Krystal made her way through the racks and aisles of the store with great effort to appear modest without hiding the exaggerated swaying of her hips.  She gravitated toward the man at a snail’s pace, but he never ventured very far anyway.  Her eyes never fell directly upon him as she weaved through the place, but her peripheral vision proved well enough to see his eager gazes.

The nearer the man came, the more she could feel her pulse racing.  She looked down as she lifted up the next article of clothing – a pair of satin panties that she had no real interest in.  Instead, she studied her own body as she held them against her pelvis, imagining how they might look on her naked skin, making sure that she felt brave enough to approach him.

Even though she was going to the lingerie store to find something sexy to dress in, Krystal made sure that what she wore for such an adventurous shopping endeavor was attractive enough as well.  A tight, grey sweater clung to her slender form, the soft fabric accentuating her alluring curves.  Her dark, denim, form-fitting jeans hugged her long legs.  Her knee-high black leather boots had a little bit of lift to them, but she could see, even from twenty feet away, that her mystery man was still taller than her.

Satisfied with her appearance, she threw the panties back into their bin.

With a deep sigh, she strengthened her sexual resolve and decided it was time to turn on the heat.

She slid around the center racks of the store, dragging her fingers along the cold metal rods until she slipped by the racks next to him, just slightly out of reach.  The tips of her fingers danced atop the reflective surfaces over and over, continuously moving closer and faster toward the handsome stranger.  She navigated her slender body around the corners of the bins, with just enough bounce in her step to send her wavy hair into the air.

Krystal ventured a glance toward her admirer.  He nervously backed his body deeper into the wall of the store, but his attention was still on her.  Their eyes met, and she flashed a knowing smile at his fly-caught-in-a-web look.  He returned the gesture; his smile was gorgeous and shy, but his gaze was powerful.  She looked away, a shiver rippling down her spine, and lifting
goosebumps
from her skin as she suddenly wondered at her own brazen approach to the complete stranger.  She realized with momentary panic that she had no idea what to say.

The song on the store’s radio faded into something infinitely more sensual than the last.  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, the same motion that initially drew her closer to him like some cosmic force, and couldn’t help imagining a number of tawdry scenarios.

The woman lifted another piece of lingerie from the bin in front of her.  It was aimless, but her subconscious still kept her preferences in check.  A lacy black bra was before her, a pink bow in the center.  She held it high, and at arm’s length, wondering if her admirer was looking at it as closely as she was pretending to as she felt the fabric in her fingers.  Satisfied, she tucked the underwear into a basket hanging from her arm with the rest of her list of acceptable pieces.

Tucking her subconscious inhibitions away – that he could be a creep, a pervert, a murderer, or any of a variety of psychopaths that her friends would advise her to avoid – she instead gave in to the temptation of toying shamelessly with the mystery man.  She drew close enough to him to smell his cologne.  Dressed like a businessman, he smelled like a cowboy.  That musky odor was penetrating, and as she let it envelop her, her eyelids fluttered.  Even if he was dangerous, she found the idea exhilarating.

She swallowed away the saliva building heavily on her tongue, and snuck another glance at him.  He faced away from her, nearly in one of the rear corners of the store.  Krystal bit her lip as she inched closer, checking out his backside.  She noticed a flash of light from that direction then, and as he stepped to the side, noticed a mirrored pillar in the enclosed space.  His eyes darted away from the mirror as the fluorescent ceiling lights shimmered off its surface.

It was too late for him to appear inconspicuous for a second time.  She had caught his calculated his stare. 

More assured that he had been looking at her and her only, she moved with even more purpose toward him with her body practically dancing down the aisles.  He moved back and forth along that far wall, and she moved to block his retreat.  Their game of cat and mouse brought a smile to her face, even if he was a willing victim.

Before long, there was only one aisle between Krystal and the back wall of the store.   One column separated her from the handsome admirer, and there was no way for either of them to hide their interest.  Smirks and glances were traded as often as their feet tapped the linoleum floor, until they were directly across from each other, only a long metal carriage keeping their bodies apart.

“So, do you buy lingerie often?” Krystal flirted.

He smiled, but she was more attracted to that rosy complexion that appeared beneath his coarse five o’clock shadow, just beyond his dimples.

“I don’t even have a good excuse to be here,” he said, bringing his arm up to nervously rub the base of his neck behind him.  “I followed you in about ten minutes ago.”

His answer hit her hard.  She was suddenly alarmed by his intentions and felt foolish at playing their game, but she tried her best to compose herself.  “What do you mean you followed me in?  I’ve been shopping for the past half hour.”

He looked down, almost looking embarrassed by her question.  “I saw you walking around in the mall.  You looked too good to pass up.”

It was her turn to blush, but she lowered her head, trying to remove that warm, fuzzy sensation she was feeling.  Her whole body shook from pins and needles, and her wide smile almost hurt her cheeks.  He hadn’t been there to stalk just any woman… he specifically went out of his way to follow her, and she found herself loving the attention.

“I’m Krystal,” she said, extending her arm over the metal barrier.

He returned the gesture, gently taking her hand in his.   “John,” he said.  She could feel his hand shifted slightly inward, almost bracing her palm.  “Sorry if this is a little weird.”

“Could be worse,” she offered.  “You could be shopping here for another girl.”

He laughed, and her knees quivered just a bit.  Even that sounded powerful and steady, nearly shaking her from her feet.  “I wouldn’t even know what I would do in that situation.  I don’t think guys really know what anything would look like on until they see a girl wearing it.”

“I could model some things for you,” she said.  Her surprise at having said the words instantly made it feel like she was doing flips, her stomach seeming to float upward.  His shock at hearing the words paid off even more.  Instead of saying anything, he just stood there, his lips parting as his jaw dropped. 
Gotcha,
she thought.

“Of course, if you think it’d be too much of a tease, I can just look at these by myself,” Krystal continued, fingering through a few of the articles she’d acquired on her adventure toward that back corner.

“I didn’t know that you could do that in these places,” he stammered.

She flicked her eyebrows, smiling radiantly at him again.  “There’s a whole dressing room over there, with private stalls inside.”

“Have you done it in there before?” he stammered again, probably realizing how the statement had sounded.  “I mean, you’re sure it would be ok?” John asked.

Krystal rolled her eyes, a grin parting her lips, and reached over the basket in front of her, gripping his hand again.  She led him to the adjacent row, until they stood side by side.  She pulled closer toward him, letting go of his hand, and inching her fingers up his arm.  She felt every soft touch of the short hairs on his arm.  She stuck her hand through the empty space between his elbow and his chest, and grabbed him tightly.  His muscles were flexed, and she could feel his taut bicep beneath his shirt.

She nearly swooned there, but she had the upper hand.  She had the power.  With every other man, she had been the submissive one, the one being led around and instructed in what THEY wanted.  But with that stranger, she wanted none of that desperation for emotional fulfillment or desire for physical validation.  He wanted to look at her body?  Then she was going to show him all of it.  With a sideways glance, the beautiful woman eyed her new plaything.  He looked straight ahead, but his lips were pursed, like he was whistling.

“Come on,” she said, pushing her way into the dressing room marked
Ladies Fitting Room.  
She heard him gulp loudly.

Inside, a row of fluorescent lights shined down on five separate smaller rooms.  Two were already occupied.  Articles of clothing were slung over the middle and far right stalls.  Benches, the same color as the beige floor, lined the walls.

The beautiful girl led her enraptured guest to a bench along the left wall, and then sat him down on the bench with a forceful push. 

“I’ve only got a few things to try on, so I won’t waste too much of your time,” she promised.