Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“Are you going to model the panties over your existing lingerie?” I ask, black brows raised. “I’m sorry, but that won’t give me a good idea of how it’s going to appear when a woman actually dons them. If anything, it’ll make you look like a mummy.”
Maxine shakes her head, still halfway bent-over.
“Oh no,” she says quickly. “I’m not wearing panties today, Mr. Kenneally. It’s part of my job so that I can model lingerie quickly and discreetly.”
I sit forward, my eyes bulging from their sockets a little.
“You don’t wear panties when you’re on shift,” I manage to get out in a rasp. “In fact, none of the salesladies here wear panties.”
Maxine nods while standing up straight once more, discreetly pulling the crimson fabric upwards.
“Yes. Well, at least not the ones who were hired under the new sales strategy,” she murmurs. “We go commando because we can’t prance around nude, with only high heels on. What if the police show up? But yes, we generally don’t wear support garments because we want to be able to satisfy our best customers, Mr. Kenneally, at the drop of a hat. We want to keep our clients happy, and to be responsive to their needs.”
I nod slowly, my mind whirling. This is a new development. I had no idea that women who work at the Secret Garden no longer wore bras and panties beneath their demure clothing. Fuck, if I’d known I would have taken a closer look at their faces and figures. Instead, I merely ripped through the place last time I was here, buying lingerie by the armful, thoughts of my sassy step nude and flushed the only image in my mind.
But it’s never too late to take advantage of what the world has to offer, and evidently, the Secret Garden has special VIP services on tap that I’ve never experienced.
“I see,” I growl, still seated on the overstuffed pink couch. “So how are you going to model the g-string then?” I ask, jerking my chin towards her clothed form. “Are you going to pull your skirt up to show me how it looks?”
Maxine pauses delicately, her fingers trembling in the air.
“I could, if that’s what you’d like,” she murmurs. “But I’m also happy to provide the full experience, Mr. Kenneally,” she adds, her fingers hovering at the buttons to her blouse. “Like I said, we’re here to provide a VIP experience, and I’m happy to model the thong in the way that works best for you.”
Then, her fingers begin unbuttoning the delicate ivory buttons of her blouse, and I remain stock still as the silky fabric slips off her shoulders, revealing huge ivory tits. Fuck, Maxine’s not wearing a bra! Of course, that’s exactly what she just told me. To be honest, I already suspected the fact, seeing that I could glimpse the hard peaks of her nipples beneath the soft cloth. But I had no idea that her tits were this big and juicy. They’re enormous sacks of cream, ovoid and natural, with bright pink nipples just waiting to be coated in a man’s saliva.
But Maxine hasn’t finished yet. She reaches in back of herself and unzips the skirt so that it splits apart, falling from her thighs to pool in a puddle at her feet. Then, the saleslady steps away from her discarded clothing, nude before me except for the tiny red g-string and a set of sky-high stilettos. Her breasts are ivory, almost luminescent under the lights, and the red thong clings to those wide hips, emphasizing her lush figure.
“You look amazing,” I praise in a low, throaty growl. “Can you show me how the clit patch works?”
Maxine nods, her color high, but doesn’t miss a beat.
“Of course, Mr. Kenneally,” the young woman murmurs. “As you can see, I have it positioned right over my most sensitive spot,” she says, running one finger down the center of the thong until she’s tapping at the red scrap of fabric. Gently, she slides her finger beneath the small piece of cloth before lifting it away from her clit altogether, showing off that bulging nub.
“You see?” she asks, glancing up at me from beneath her lashes. “The string doesn’t have much give, so the fabric will stay in place. It’s not a problem,” she says.
“I do see,” I nod slowly. “But what happens when you move? Does the clit patch stay in place?”
Maxine nods with a smile, her black tresses swirling about her shoulders.
“Yes, because it’s quite tight,” she says. “See? I’ll walk around a bit, and you can see that the g-string is comfortable and secure.”
Then, she parades a few steps before me, like Miss America doing a pageant walk. Her wide hips sway from right to left, and I stare first at her big breasts, bouncing subtly with the beat, before taking in that luscious, rounded ass. Saliva floods my mouth as my cocks harden.