“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Alicia said.
“Life goes on! Say, do you mind if I try these on right now?”
“I’m not sure that…” Before she could finish speaking, Mr. Davis dropped his trousers to the ground, and slipped on his newly tailored pair. Alicia blushed with embarrassment.
“Look.” Mr. Davis rushed over to the full-length mirror on the wall, and pointed to his thighs. “They’re so comfortable. So modern looking! My dear, do you know how much I would pay for a pair of pants like this, had I found them in a store? Hundreds. I would pay hundreds, and I would never go back to another brand until I’ve rested in my grave.”
Alicia stared at him wide-eyed. Never had she heard such a flattering compliment in regards to her work. “You…you really would?”
“Do you want to be rich, young lady?”
The question caught her off-guard. She tried to answer as humbly as possible. “I mean, it would be nice to have a little extra money.”
“Start your own brand. Do it now, and never look back.” Mr. Davis reached into the inner pocket of his navy blue blazer, and pulled out a disheveled mess of paper bills. He sifted through the receipts and expired gift-cards, counted out a number of Benjamins, and slapped them on the counter. “No, I’m not insane. No, I did not miscount. One-thousand dollars for the lass who knows how to tailor a damn fine pair of khakis.”
“A thousand dollars? Mr. Davis, with all due respect, I cannot accept this amount of money.”
He reached into his pocket once more and laid down a crisp fifty on top of the pile. “How about this amount?” He said with smart-assed sarcasm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m retired, and these are worth every penny. I’ll be seeing you around. Promise.” He crossed his heart with his pointer finger, gave her a friendly wink, and jaunted out the door. Alicia could only stare at the money—two months worth of rent—before putting it away in her purse.
When she got back to her place, she found Anna sprawled out on the couch watching reruns of Friends. “How was your day, gorgeous?” She muttered lazily under her breath. Anna threw her a tub of expensive pistachio gelato, and sat down next to her. “Woah, what is this? What happened to being poor? This is like, ten dollar ice cream, you nut!”
“I’m starting a business, Anna. Do you want to help me out?”
“Uh, is T&C not a business anymore? What are you getting at?”
“A different business. I want to start designing clothes. I think I’m good at it.”
“What makes you say that?” Alicia threw down the wad of hundreds onto their stained coffee table. Anna looked at her as though they had just won the lottery. “How in the hell?”
“You know my crazy old client, Mr. Davis? He paid me over a thousand dollars for that simple custom job I did. He used to study fashion design in Europe, and he told me it was one of the best things he had ever seen. Can you believe that?”
“Money talks, girl. I’m sick of working at the bank. When do we get the ball rolling on this?”
They spent the entire evening constructing a business model, and stayed up until the sun peaked its head over the distant mountains. Alicia had completely lost track of time, and after her gelato had been devoured, she checked the clock on the microwave. 4:46 A.M. “Shit! Anna, why didn’t you tell me it was so late? Well, early now, I guess. I’m supposed to meet Andre tomorrow, and I haven’t even finished his jacket yet!”
“Oh, calm down. That isn’t even for another thirteen hours. You’re being dramatic.”
“Ok, you’re right. I can borrow your dress tonight, though. Right?”
“Be my guest.” Anna unleashed a boisterous yawn. “Geez, I need to get some sleep. Let’s talk about this more tomorrow, ok? It sounds like you have a solid opportunity here, Alicia.” She smiled, and dove her head under the covers.
3
Alicia’s alarm shattered her restless slumber at ten in the morning. Every square inch of her body shook with nervous excitement as soon as she remembered that she was still set on meeting Andre that evening. So excited, in fact, that she could not even be bothered with making breakfast. The butterflies in her stomach filled her up enough.
As she hopped in the shower, she took extra care in washing herself. The top of her lemon citrus body gel popped open, unearthing its wonderful scent which filled the warm air around her. In that moment it was like every one of her senses were heightened. She didn’t know why—was it the anticipation of the evening? Thoughts of Andre? Regardless, she just felt so alive. So youthful. It had been years since she had felt this way. As she ran the loofah over her small breasts, a wave of pleasure burst from her hardened nipples. She let out an audible moan, which was quickly stifled by her hand.
The hell? She thought. God, it felt so good, but at the same time it was one of the strangest feelings she had ever experienced. Never had she been that sensitive before, especially in her chest. The wave reverberated through her body, and found its way south. Alicia stepped out from the stream of water momentarily, and placed a finger gently inside her warm pussy. A string of velvety juice followed as she withdrew her hand. “Oh my god, I’m so wet. How long as it been since I’ve...”
She’d been so caught up in her business. Social life? Borderline non-existent. Love interests were far and few in between ever since she had taken over Thimble & Cloth full-time. The exhausting ten hour days had simply sapped the sexual energy out of her, but in that moment, it was as though it had all returned—full force, and with a vengeance. “This is ridiculous.” She said under her breath, but as soon as adjusted her showerhead to a heavier setting, the water massaged her left nipple at the perfect angle. An incredibly intense feeling—something that transcended sexual bliss altogether—rocketed through every synapse of her brain, and made her whimper with ecstasy. “Fuck!” She couldn’t take it anymore. It had been so long since…too long since…
Andre’s face popped into her head, and refused to leave as Alicia’s clitoris throbbed uncontrollably. Her mind raced back to the afternoon she had met him, and what if…what if? We were alone. He was so sexy. That suit of his.
“You mean, right here? Right now?” The fantasy began to play out in her mind like a perfectly directed movie.
“How long has it been, Alicia? Since you’ve…”
“I’m not sure I can even give you an answer. It’s been years since I’ve been with someone.”
“Well then…”
He steps closer to her, and begins to unbutton her snow white work shirt with delicate, deliberate movements. As it falls to the ground, he cannot help himself from grabbing the cups of her lacy brassier. She reaches behind her back to undo the latch, but he stops her short. “No, not yet. Leave it on until I say so.”
His fitted jacket falls of his body, revealing a solid wall of defined muscle. Alicia’s hand slips underneath his silk undershirt, and massages his sculpted pecks, then stomach. Then…she reaches lower. Moves her hand carefully until she hits his pelvic muscles, which are like arrows pointing to it. The goal. “I need it, Andre.” She begs softly into his ear. He responds like a starved leopard, looking to satiate his carnivorous hunger. “I need you more.” He unbuckles his belt—his pants fall to his ankles revealing his dark grey Calvin Klein’s. Reflexively, her hands gravitate toward his thick, girthy member. She massages it with desperation, and within seconds, he’s ready. He needs it.
He hikes up her skirt, and bends her over the service desk. He pulls her bra down without taking it off, just as he likes it. His burly hands come up under her, and grab her breasts, which fit perfectly. Perfectly. Enough of that. “If only I had more hands.” He says to her with a tone of genuine disappointment. They leave her chest, and move gently along her back until they reach her soft ass. “What do you want to do to me, Andre?”
“Everything.” He says with a sexy, breathless voice. “Everything.”
He pulls it out from behind the slit in his briefs, and presses it against her saturated panties. “I
can’t take it anymore. I need you inside me now, Andre. Now.” She scolds him.
A finger slips underneath the bridge of her black panties, and he pulls them effortlessly to the side revealing her perfect, bare peach. He spreads it open with two fingers, and upon doing so, a drip of ecstasy falls from her lips. She’s nothing but an animal now. Cannot even think rationally. The same can be said for him as he licks his lips with a wet tongue.
As he inserts the tip of his hard shaft into her, she can barely hold back a brimming orgasm. He thrusts—slowly the first time, faster the second, and then an unexpected finger begins to rub her tender clit. “I’m. Oh fuck, I’m cumming already!” He ignores her, and right before she climaxes, he pounds her harder than she had ever been fucked before. The climax recedes, but then builds into something different altogether. Forms into something divine and ethereal. Alicia cums once, screaming out in ecstasy. Her body shakes uncontrollably as the dopamine bursts inside of her like summertime fireworks. Again. Another orgasm builds on top of the first, sending her into another dimension. Her eyes roll backwards as Andre grabs her hair, and pulls her head back gently like the reigns of a horse. Her mare continues thrusting deeper and deeper until he cannot bear the tightness of her velvet tunnel any longer. He erupts inside of her—she feels the warmth of his silky cum, and the ceaseless pulsing of his dick.
“I…I came inside of you.”
“You did.” She responds, as she looks back at him with seductive eyes, glazed over with gratification.
Alicia awakens from her imagination to find herself on the floor of the tub, exhausted. “T–that was amazing. It was so lucid.” She breaths hard until a faint knock on the door makes her jump.
“Hey Alicia, you ok?”
“Y…yes Anna. I’m good.” She tried to hide the “just-pleasured” tone in her voice, but failed spectacularly.
“Alright. It sounded like you were in pain or something for a min…uhh…ok, never mind. I gotta go, I’ll see you later.” Both of their faces turn crimson.
“Was I that loud?” Alicia muttered under her breath.
After toweling off and dressing, the intense sexual pleasure lingered in her mind. Andre lingered in her mind. “It’s not going to happen tonight. He’s way out of my league.” She told herself in the mirror. “We’re basically not even from the same planet.” That was her insecurity speaking. She knew in the back of her mind that if he was to make any advances, she would let him use her like a human sex toy. No qualms. It was decided. But she knew the chances of that happening were slim to none. She was a poor seamstress with a silly business idea. What kind of man would even take her seriously? Certainly not Andre. But…
“Holy shit. Business!” As her mind cleared up, it clicked in her head. “I didn’t even think of that. Tonight is a perfect opportunity to share my idea with someone with insider knowledge. Investment company? I’m sure there’s a thing or two he would be able to teach me.” In more ways than one, her conscience said to her without warning. “Funny. Real funny. And now I’m talking to myself.”
She checked her phone. The time glared at her intimidatingly. 12:36 P.M. Less than six hours to go before her big “date.” She hopped into her Honda, and booked it to T&C so she could finish Andre’s jacket before he met with her there. It was slightly bad planning on her behalf, considering she would have to do herself up in the half-bathroom at work, but there was no other option. The “Velvet Devil” was draped carefully over the passenger side head rest, and she ensured that her purse was packed with the essentials—deodorant, eye liner, foundation, J'adore Eau Lumière Eau de Toilette (aka, her blood orange-esque perfume which she prayed to God would inspire a few compliments from Andre. She paid too much for it not to).
Doors: Unlocked. Weapons of mass repair: ready. Andre’s jacket…as she carried it over to her workstation, her nose caught a masculine scent, which radiated quite strongly from the collar. She smothered her face in it, and inhaled. Heavenly. “I haven’t known the guy for more than ten minutes, and I’m absolutely infatuated.” It was a hard truth for her to admit, considering the nature of her previous relationship. Tom Kevil, the handsome devil. Good old unfaithful Tom. He had Alicia wrapped around his finger, and the moment she fell in love, he broke her heart without hesitation. It was definitely one of the factors which contributed to her years of solitude. She gave up on love. Gave up on a lot of things in general. She was better now, but in the back of her mind, she could not help but wonder if this “thing” with Andre would end the same way: short lived and ultimately, disappointing. But she was thinking too far ahead. Alicia didn’t even know if he was truly interested in her on a romantic level.
But I have to take the chance. I have to.
Andre’s scent, one which was reminiscent cardamom and warm ginger, kissed her nose gently as she sewed the torn, outer pocket with masterful precision. The buttons followed. After finishing the job, she held it to the light, and agreed that it was definitely professional work. She’d never paid attention very close before, but when she gazed over every stitch, the perfection of her craft shouted at her like a boisterous muse. “Look at this, Alicia. You goddess! You perfectionist!” She smiled inwardly, which then moved to her face, thus dimpling her cheeks.
As she looked over the jacket, her attention became fixated to the tag on the inside. The thin, silky label read “Prada” in bold, silver font. Classic. She thought to herself. A quick internet search on her phone revealed the price to be in the ballpark of three grand. Instinctually, her mind raced to Andre’s wealth, but she suppressed that thought for a moment. Instead, she began to criticize the quality of the expensive jacket. “This could be better,” She whispered, as she compared the stitching to her own. “And for God’s sake, three thousand dollars? I could make something like this, and charge half the price.”
Harsh. What a critic. What did she know? She probably couldn’t even afford the handkerchief that was balled up in his pocket. Handkerchief, and what else. What is this? She pulled out a business card on which he jotted down a checklist. Businessmen, always making lists. She read it to herself slowly.
1. Assess the general area/business, (Check)
2. Book a room at illegible scribble, (Unchecked)
3. Get that girl’s name?
The last one made her mind reel. That girl? Could it have been her? What, had he seen her in public, and followed her to T&C, only to find out she’s a poor old seamstress?
But he was the one who initiated, Alicia.
So what, Alicia. Leagues above you, remember. Leagues!
Shut up, Alicia!
My god, she wasn’t even thirty yet. She was much too young to be arguing with herself.
4
Time seems to move faster when love is on your mind. Alicia looked at the clock. 5:20. Luckily, she had caught up on some paperwork in the meantime, leaving her with a little boost of confidence. Anything to help calm her nerves. She spent the next forty minutes getting ready for Andre.
The Velvet Devil was tight, but in a very flattering way. She was actually taken aback by how it accentuated her lithesome curves so subtly. Her butt filled the dress perfectly, and when she turned to look in the mirror, she knew it was the dress of a temptress. All of those men that had given Anna attention the first time she had worn it—yes, it made sense now. It made her attractive. Unavoidably sexy. Low cut. Cleavage. The lacy lingerie Alicia wore complimented it perfectly, and maybe he’ll get to see them tonight. Maybe…
Her French perfume was a bit strong, but so was her demeanor. Strong; confident. It was like an out of body experience for her, considering she was usually so shy and reserved. Nonetheless, she didn’t question it—only bathed in her newfound self-assurance.
Alicia caught sight of Andre’s car from the back room as it pulled into the parking lot of T&C, and her heart skipped two beats. Deep breath. She watched from the window as he casually exited his luxury steed, like he was some kind of action-movie protagonist. Double-O Andre, at yo
ur service. His brown aviators paired exquisitely with his slicked-back, auburn hair. Perfection. That initial feeling she had in the shower that morning came back to her in waves. She had to suppress it before getting too turned on, but she could already feel a damp spot in her panties. “How in the hell am I going to survive tonight without at least seeing his…” She adjusted her dress as he tapped lightly on the front door. She opened without hesitation, and joined him outside.
“Wow, ready to go, I see. You look fantastic.” Hook.
“T—thank you so much. You look great yourself. Oh, before we leave, do you mind if I return your jacket?”
“Not at all, I’d love to give it a look-over.” He trailed behind her as Alicia led him inside. “Mmm. I have to ask, what kind of perfume are you wearing?” Line.
“Oh, just something casual. Not sure I remember the name.” She played it off as though this was her normal getup. Alicia, you seductress, you. It was like she was on auto-pilot. Hadn’t a clue where this was all coming from, but she went with it. One notch higher. One more notch. Think of the goal. She was so torn, though. Could not settle on a mutual agreement between her brain and her heart. Did she want Andre’s companionship, or did she just want the sex? As she bent over the counter to ensure Andre could catch the view of her panties, she had found her answer. She turned around to catch him in the act, and he did not even notice. He was fixated. Sinker.
“Here you go.” She gently tossed his Prada into his arms.
He looked at her, and smiled wide. Teeth like pearls. “Nicely done. You’ve got talent, Alicia.”
She was giddy that he had remembered her name. “Thank you. So, dinner. Oh…oh my goodness, I didn’t even plan this far in advance. I was so caught up in other things today, I forgot to make reservations to any restaurant. Everything is going to be a wait, since it’s a Saturday. I’m so sorry.” A look of defeat tore the smile off her face, but Andre spoke to her reassuringly.
The Seamstress (An Erotic Love Story) Page 2
