by Various
I wave tauntingly as I speed by a snoozing state trooper parked on the side of the road. ‘What shall it be today?’ I ask myself, peering behind me to see if the statie’s radar has gone off. Seeing that I am alone in traffic, I race along, not bothering to slow down. ‘Valentino, Galliano, or Versace? The choices are so limitless. I may have to buy them all!’
I feel around in my purse and pull out my wallet. I flip it open and a long strand of credit cards streams out. ‘Ahhhhh,’ I breathe with almost sexual satisfaction. ‘Plastic – a girl’s best friend! I think I need a new pair of boots and, of course, a matching purse. Maybe a hat too.’
I squint into the sunlight and nod slowly. ‘Yes,’ I purr, with a wicked grin curling my lip, ‘it’s going to be a good afternoon.’
I make my way to one of the more well-to-do shopping centres in the city where I live, a place where I am considered to be one of the more exclusive patrons. I wind in and out of the grassy islands of the parking lot and pull adeptly into a vacant spot near the front door of the most popular department store. I wonder airily how long it will be before they give me a personalised parking space – and then I cackle at my own wit.
I put on a more sombre expression as I enter the store. Like the dignified lady I know I should be, I haughtily scan the area with an air of authority. Inhaling deeply, I savour the aroma of newness and luxury. I mainly depend on the indulgence of my father to support my shopping habit. An occasional five-fingered discount doesn’t hurt either. Not that I need to steal – not by any stretch of the imagination. I shoplift for the pure thrill of it. It gets me hot. It makes me wet. It’s just another of the perks of being naughty.
My eyes wander lazily over the merchandise as I casually stroll through the display tables and counters. I ponder over what should be the pick of the day – make-up, jewellery … lingerie! Now, there’s a place to start. One can never have too much sexy underclothing. You never know when it might be handy, or even necessary. I finger a costly chemise with contemplation. The violet silk matches my eyes and accents the light olive hue of my skin. It’s perfect for me and I definitely want it. However, it’s just too big to pocket.
‘I guess I’ll just have to buy this one,’ I murmur saucily, scooping it up. I can feel the dampness between my legs start as the thrill of danger begins to rise.
I grab a matching silk thong on my way to the counter and deftly slip it into the large pocket of my baggy man’s overcoat. My thieving coat, I think fondly, smoothing the puffy material until it lies flat against the pilfered panties.
A portly woman at the cash register takes the chemise from me from me and begins to write up the receipt. While I wait, I add a black lace bra, g-string, and garter belt set to the purchase. Then I lean against the counter, nonchalantly drumming my fingers against the glass, smiling innocently at the saleslady. All the while, the muscles in my pussy are churning as I think of all the naughty things I’m going to be able to do with my purchases – and with my stolen goods. My nipples are hard and scratching at my bra to get out. In a little while, my pets, I promise them silently. I might have to stop in the dressing room for a little playtime with myself. It wouldn’t be the first time, I reminisce with a delicious shiver.
After my lingerie is wrapped and paid for, I neatly tuck the bag under my arm and stray into the accessories department. I check the area carefully for any signs of store security. Getting all hot and bothered sometimes makes me careless. I don’t want to get caught. That would ruin all the fun. And store security is usually more careful in this particular section due to the fact that the expensive costume jewellery is very attractive to would-be thieves, including me, and equally easy to make off with. When the coast is clear, I palm an ornate sterling bracelet designed to resemble a small wreath of grapes on twisted vines.
A fraction of a second after the bracelet hits the bottom of my deep pocket, I feel a strong hand on my shoulder. I whirl about in sudden panic and find myself staring into the iciest blue eyes I have ever seen in my entire life. I don’t know whether to faint or cream. In any case, the clit-ometer rises another notch, and I unconsciously wriggle a little in my tight jeans.
‘Come with me, please, miss,’ the man says quietly.
I thank God that this posh establishment is so damned snobby they’re extremely hushed about shoplifting incidents. The silent walk back to the security office with the plainly clad store detective escorting me gently by the elbow appears no more out of the ordinary than a gentleman accompanying his woman around the store. It gives me time to try to think of a quick and easy way out of this mess. I absolutely have to make sure that I’m not arrested. It would never do. Daddy would have a fit. He’d put punitive restrictions on me. The hindrance of my freedom would be intolerable and a criminal record would ruin any possibility of my marrying into the upper crust of this town.
I compose myself as much as possible as Mr Security Man leads me to the back of the store and through the double swinging doors that open into the warehouse. He quickly manoeuvres me around forklifts and between high stacks of empty wooden pallets until we reach a locked wooden door markedEric Lexington, Director of Security. As he draws out a large ring of keys and fits one into the lock, I survey him more closely. He’s very attractive, about six-four with thick brown hair that keeps wanting to fall on to his forehead despite the fact that he’s slicked it back with some sort of product. He’s sporting a nice 5 o’clock shadow – the kind that Hollywood has made acceptable to wear even when dressed to the nines. His bottom lip is full and generous and his chin is square and rigidly set. His charcoal suit coat fits snugly across his shoulders and I am able to catch a glimpse of his muscular thighs rippling beneath his trousers as he uses his knee to nudge open the door when it sticks in the jamb. A lusty spark goes off in my mind. It appears that this predicament might not be so hard to extract myself from after all – hard being the operative word.
‘In here,’ he instructs with a curt nod of the head.
I precede him into the dark room and almost stumble over a chair by the desk. He quickly flips on the fluorescent light and apologises for the close proximity of the quarters, explaining that his regular office is being renovated and he’s temporarily being holed up here. I sit quietly in the chair to which he directs me, trying to seem a little more vulnerable than I actually feel. It will be necessary to first appeal to his sense of pity and, then, to his sense of desire if I am to carefully escape prosecution. I fold my hands on my lap and softly clear my throat as he turns to close the door.
‘Now,’ he says, finally spinning about to face me, ‘would you like to tell me what you were doing back there?’ He leans back against the closed door, a sardonic smile touching his face as he waits for what he knows will be a lame answer.
‘Well,’ I begin hesitantly, ‘I’m not quite sure I know what you mean, Mr –’
‘Oh, I think you do,’ he interjects, nipping my first little plan in the bud. I decide to finish up this pathetic little scenario and quickly move ahead to Plan B.
‘I was shopping. See for yourself.’ I hold up the bag for his inspection.
He gingerly takes it from me and peers inside. With a barely suppressed grin, he removes the undergarments and places them in a neat pile on his desk. Checking the receipt, he notices the obvious absence of the bracelet and looks up at me with a wry smile. ‘I was talking about the jewellery.’
‘Oh – oh! You mean the bracelet!’ My hand flutters up to my throat and then quickly into my pocket, drawing out the heavy silver bauble. I fail to notice, however, that the clasp of the bracelet has caught the strap of the purple thong, and it is now left peeking over the rim of the coat pocket.
‘This?’ I ask innocently. ‘I’m buying this.’ I realise that he’s not buying my story any more than I’m buying jewellery. ‘Really, I am. I’m just so forgetful and in such a rush, I must have accidentally slipped it into my pocket. Here,’ I offer, pulling my wallet from my purse, ‘I have the money to pay for
it.’
His eyes mock me, I think to myself. The bastard is actually enjoying this. If he weren’t so gorgeous, I’d be offended.
‘I’m not interested in your money, miss. It’s a bit late for that now. I’m a little more interested in this.’ He leans over me, his breath dangerously heavy on the hollow of my throat. I gasp and draw back as his arm brushes my already tingling breasts. His hand slips deftly past my purse to retrieve the thong from my pocket. He stands back up, twirling it around his index finger.
‘What about this?’ he demands, the laughter hinting in his voice.
He has me cold now. I know it. It’s time to play for keeps. ‘Look … sir. I can’t afford to get in trouble. My father has a lot of money. I –’
‘I’m not interested in your daddy’s money either, missy. Do you think my loyalty to this establishment can be bought and sold like … like a pair of panties?’ He accentuates his last quip by tossing the thong back at me.
The purple silk smacks me in the chest and I gather it up in my hand. He’s playing with me. OK then, I’d do well to give him a little taste of his own medicine. I lower my lashes coyly, and lightly flick my top lip with the soft tip of my pink tongue, as if debating some desperate decision. I see the tightening of his thighs beneath his trousers and I know I have him hooked.
‘I would never suggest that you were dishonest,’ I protest with feigned shock. ‘But,’ I continue, greedily eyeing his belt buckle, ‘maybe we could still come to a satisfactory arrangement – you know, just between the two of us. No one else needs to become involved.’
I slowly set my purse on the floor next to the chair and run one perfectly manicured hand through my auburn locks, drawing the heavy tresses back to expose my long, creamy neck. I linger in the chair for effect, and then push off my haunches to kneel on the floor in front of him, as if in sacrifice. A small growl of animal want rises in his throat as he feels my hot breath against the increasing tension behind his zipper. Maybe he can’t be bought, I think as he reaches behind him to turn the lock on the door, but he’s certainly sold on this idea. My hands slide languorously up his sinewy thighs and he leans back against the safely latched door.
His breath begins to come in short, heavy gasps as I run my mouth over his still clothed cock. I nip the bulge with my teeth, teasing him, pressing my lips lightly to his groin, giving him only enough contact to torture him. He pushes his hips forward a little, wanting more from me than I am giving at the moment. I pull away and demurely bat my eyelashes at him.
‘Patience,’ I purr softly. ‘These things take time.’
‘Take off your top,’ he commands without further ado. Apparently, he wants to direct a little more than I had planned.
‘Why?’ I ask, more curious than afraid.
‘You seem to like sexy underwear. I want to see some.’
It’s a simple enough request. I shrug out of my overcoat and lift my heavy sweater over my head. I cross my arms over my breasts, rubbing my shoulders with my hands.
‘Is this to your liking?’
‘I’d like it better if I could see more of it,’ Mr Lexington retorts, sniffing at the blocked view.
I run my hands up my arms and then down, stopping when my hands come to rest on my hips. I kneel up to give him a closer look at my ample cleavage. ‘Better?’
The increased rise and fall of his chest is all the answer I need. Still, he tries to downplay his excitement. ‘A little,’ he replies dismissively.
I can see that this is going to be a battle for control that will go on until the last orgasm subsides. Well, I’m not about to go down – so to speak – without a fight. I reach between my breasts and flick open the catch on my bra. The burgundy satin pops apart as my tits spring free. I catch them in my hands and start to squeeze them, feeling the firm flesh fill the spaces between my fingers as I roughly massage the globes. I close my eyes and let my head fall back as I pinch my nipples with my long nails. I gyrate my denim-clad hips in a slow grind as I kneel before my captor, my ripe melon breasts turned upward, my nipples hard enough to cut glass, my full lips softly parted, ready to pay him oral homage.
‘Better, much better,’ he murmurs throatily.
I slowly lean forward to release him from his cloth confines. First, the gold buckle of his belt, then the onyx button of his trousers. The zipper slides down easily, humping smoothly as it rides over his sequestered erection. I slide the expensive material over his hips and let it fall in a pile around his ankles. Then I tug at the silk of his boxers. His cock bounces out and I am pleased. Big, but not overbearing; thick, but not bulky. His large balls are held tight against his body and are velvety smooth as a result of some careful manscaping. It’s a perfect specimen and I waste no time in getting to it.
I breathe gently on the head and kiss away a drop of the nectar that has leaked out onto the tip. Then I slowly ease him into my mouth, using every bit of cock-sucking skill that I have. After all, he’s doing me a special favour. I can at least reciprocate. I suck him up and down, lightly at first, then more insistently. I lick the crease of his groin on either side, where it meets his legs, and then I suck his balls, taking each of them into my mouth, one at a time, for a glorious tongue bath. Eric Lexington is a happy camper, grunting and moaning as he shoves more of his crotch into my face, and I’m glad. I like watching him writhe beneath my mouth as I do very naughty things to him.
‘Stand up,’ he gruffly orders, just as I think he’s about to pack it in. I comply. ‘Over there.’ He ushers me toward his desk as he removes the rest of his clothes. His hard cock sways back and forth as he meets me on the side of the large mahogany structure. ‘Take your pants off, missy. You still haven’t paid off that bracelet.’
I slide my jeans off, leaving my panties on.
‘Very nice,’ he hums approvingly as he comes to stand behind me, admiring my thong. ‘But tell me something,’ he continues, running an exploratory finger up and down the thin strip of satin between my cheeks, ‘why bother to wear anything?’
‘Why indeed?’ I agree, slipping them off.
‘Bend over,’ he orders, pushing me forward onto his desk. Then, he’s at me. I feel the bristle of his stubble against my tender flesh as he runs his mouth over my ass. He smooths a cursory hand up and down my thighs before cupping my pussy with his palm. He nuzzles the lips with caressing fingers then starts stroking me, working his fingers into the wet folds. I’m panting hard now and he quickens his clit massage to keep time with my breathing. I try to back up on to his hand so that I can get his fingers inside me, but he pulls away.’
‘Not yet, little lady. Payback is a bitch.’
He’s going to make me suffer. The prick is still playing alpha dog with me. And I’m beyond caring. I need to be fucked and I need to be fucked now.
‘Please,’ I whimper, ‘please fuck me. I need to feel your big cock inside me.’
‘Tsk, tsk,’ he chides with a shake of his head, ‘such language. Does your daddy know you talk like that?’
Silently, I shake my head. My snatch is throbbing, and I stroke it with a comforting hand.
‘Somehow,’ Lexington says stroking his own junk expectantly, ‘I don’t think he’d approve. I think he’d want me to punish you.’
‘Oh yes! Please! Please punish me!’ I grab my ass cheeks and spread them wide for him. My slick pussy is now open for him, just waiting for him to fill it. He presses the head of his cock against my anus and my ass contracts involuntarily as I think that he might try to penetrate me unprepared. He lets out a little chuckle and moves on down the line. He rubs his cock between my wet pussy lips and then poises himself at the opening of my sex.
‘You are a naughty girl,’ he whispers hotly into my ear as he plunges into me.
‘Oh yes!’ I groan, feeling him fill me to the hilt.
‘What would your daddy think of you now?’
I shake my head. With him sawing his big hard cock in and out of me, I can’t answer.
‘I
think he’d say you were a whore,’ he tells me, accentuating each word with a thrust of the groin. I nod in agreement. He reaches around and grabs my tits, squeezing them in his big hands.
‘Do you like that?’
‘Yes, oh yes!’ I moan breathlessly.
‘Your pussy is so wet! Do you like having my stiff cock in you, fucking you?’
‘Yes!’
‘Tell me,’ he demands, his balls slapping my pussy as he pounds me harder and harder. ‘Tell me how much you like to be fucked.’
‘I love it!’ I cry out, submitting to him at last. ‘I love your big cock fucking my pussy. Fuck me harder!’ I moan as I roll my clit beneath my fingers.
‘That’s it,’ he urges as he feels my cunt muscles tightening around his staff. ‘Come for me, you naughty girl! Come all over my cock!’
He clamps down on my nipples with his fingertips and it’s all over. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me as the intense heat of orgasm floods my pussy. Lexington gives me his last few good strokes and then tears himself free from my snatch.
‘Oh!’ he yells loudly, letting his load loose all over my ass. ‘You whore! You beautiful fucking whore!’
I smile. Who am I to disagree?
Approximately 82 minutes have elapsed, according to my watch, since I was escorted to the security office at my favourite local department store. I emerge quietly, and thoughtfully close the door behind me so that Eric Lexington will not be caught with his pants down. For that is how I left him: naked on the floor, trousers in a heap next to him as he sat smoking a cigarette, totally pleasured and thoroughly drained. I smack my lips with avaricious delight as I make my way to my car, the tingling of my pussy reminiscent of the excellent fucking I just got. I all but skip across the parking lot, the boots and purse that originally brought me here long forgotten. A giddy laugh bubbles up through my lips as I reach into my pocket and feel the mingled textures of silk and silver beneath my fingers. Damn, it feels so good to be bad!
