by Micheal Cohen

I have the job that every guy dreams about – selling lingerie in a classy boutique in Hollywood. I get starlets looking to impress some producer, mistresses looking to keep their boyfriends, wives trying to keep their husbands and porn actresses trying to keep, well, everybody. And I make a lot of money doing it. While my friends and classmates work high pressure, 9 to 5 jobs, selling stocks and bonds, or cars or real estate investments, or whatever, I open my shop around ten or so each morning and wait for the lovelies to arrive and undress.

I greet them as they walk in the front door. “Good morning,” I say. “Thank you for coming.” Then I smile. I’ve practiced my smile for hours. I even went to a teacher of sorts, a makeup guy who specializes in improving people’s appearances. For hours we worked on just the right smile. Just a hint of smirk, a bit of confidence, a smattering of vulnerability, a touch of bad boy and not the least bit of sarcasm. A few hundred bucks and wham, the perfect smile forever.

“If you’d like some coffee or juice, there’s a wet bar over in the corner.” I put the emphasis on ‘wet’ just to see if it gets a reaction. Then I give them another perfect smile. Finally, I offer them my assistance if they need it, but I don’t push that. After all, they know what they’re looking for and as much fun as my job is, I do have to make sales. It always comes down, ultimately, to money.

If they’re beautiful and they come in alone, I consider them potential buyers and bed mates. If they’re with other girls their own age and they’re all buying lingerie, I take a shot at a group thing which has happened more than once. If they’re with an older woman, like a mom or an aunt, I show respect to the mom and, believe me, this has paid off big time. If they’re with guys, I size up the situation first. Sometimes, the guy is a husband or a boyfriend and I stay away. But sometimes the guy’s a sugar daddy which means the girl’s a slut and in need of a younger man to “talk” to. If I can get the girl away from him for a few minutes, say he has to go back to the car or he gets a phone call, this has been known to produce spontaneous sex, so hot, that it makes me hard just remembering.

I had it down cold. I had so many phone numbers in my little black book that it was embarrassing. And each and every one of them was astoundingly beautiful and looked unbelievably great in lingerie. There was no woman who could walk into my store that I couldn’t size up and get friendly with in a matter of a few minutes. And they all came in. Old ones, young ones, fresh off the bus ones, been here forever ones. I thought I had seen every possible different kind of beautiful woman there was. Until Chloe walked in.

There was just something different about her. To begin with she walked into my store alone. Not that that was unusual, but she seemed lost and unsure of where she was. Most women who come in alone are confident, sure of themselves and what they’re looking for. But not Chloe. She seemed somehow surprised to find herself in a lingerie store. Then there was the way she was dressed.

I’ve seen them in shorts so short you could fuck them from behind without taking them off. I’ve seen them in evening gowns, bikinis, nurse’s uniforms, bondage gear. Hell, there was even one chick who jumped out of her car butt naked and ran in here to buy some stuff while her boyfriend waited outside. But Chloe was the first woman who ever walked into my lingerie store dressed like a schoolmarm. Right out of the old west she was. Her dress went straight from the floor all the way up her neck. Hair tied back in a bun. Little granny glasses and shoes so clunky I don’t know how she walked in them. And did I mention she looked lost?

“You’re in a movie, right?” I asked.

“A movie?” she said, “I don’t think so. No I don’t.”

“What’s with the get up?” I asked. This woman had me off my game; there was no doubt about it.

“Get up?” she said. Now she was looking downright nervous. “Why, whatever do you mean sir?”

Alright, now I was getting curious. I could tell right away that underneath that buttoned up outfit was a real hot body. And the more I looked at her, the more I wanted to unbutton that dress, remove those glasses, loosen her hair and watch it fall down across her bare shoulders, partially hiding her magnificent breasts. I walked over and stood next to her. She stiffened but didn’t back away as I approached.

“I mean the costume. Lady, you look like you look like you’re right out of the wild wild west.” I was warming up, or so I thought. I was just hoping she was too. It was hard to tell.

Right outside the front door a huge truck rambled by, backfiring loudly as it passed. The noise frightened her and she jumped into my arms.

“Oh!” she screamed. She grabbed onto me, startled by the noise and my arms naturally encircled her, holding her, protecting her.

“It’s just a…what the??” Her dress crumbled into dust every place my hands touched it. It was like it was hundreds of years old, baked in the desert sun and now it fell apart like cotton candy. In a few moments she was nearly naked. She shrieked and ran into the dressing room her hair falling out of the bun and cascading down her back in long blond curls. Even the weirdness of the moment didn’t stop me from appreciating the sensuality of her skin, her strong legs, her perfect breasts as she escaped into the small dressing room.

“Are you alright?” I asked. When she didn’t answer I decided to take charge of the situation. I grabbed the nearest outfit and walked over to the dressing room.

“Here.” I said. “Put this on.”

A hand snaked out of the door and grabbed the outfit from me. From inside the dressing room I heard the sounds she was making putting on the outfit I had given her. I imagined the stockings sliding up those powerful legs, the bra enclosing those perfect breasts, her feet freed from those clunky shoes she came in with replaced with the patent leather ones I handed her. Of all the women who had come through my store, even some famous ones, I was more turned on by this stranger than by any of them. This woman was going to be transformed from an oddity into something magnificent and I was breathless with anticipation waiting for her to emerge from the dressing room.

“Are you ok?” I asked and without a word the dressing room door opened and she walked out, a vision in red lingerie. I gasped. She was gorgeous. A perfect physical specimen wearing the perfect outfit. She looked gorgeous but she seemed uncomfortable in the outfit. I walked over to her.

“You look beautiful.” I said. She walked over to the full length mirror and stared at herself.

“Yes. I do.” she said. “These are strange clothes. Is this what you wear?”

“Me? No. Women wear them. Beautiful women wear them. Like you.”

“Why?” she asked honestly.

“Well, I guess they wear them to please the men in their lives.”

“Does it please you?”

“Oh yes. Very much. It makes me want to touch you.”

“So, touch me.” I could tell by the tone in her voice she was dead serious and I wasn’t going to ask any more questions. I didn’t care what her name was. I didn’t care why she seemed so confused. The way she looked in that lingerie, no man would have turned her down.

I walked over to her and kissed her. Her lips opened and she sucked my tongue deep into her mouth. I reached down and touched her breasts through the fabric of the lingerie and her nipples rose in response to my probing. Her hips started swaying, grinding into me. My cock nearly exploded from the contact. I lifted her gently off the ground and carried her to a private corner in the back of the store where I proceeded to remove the lingerie I so greatly admired. She turned into an animal with every caress grabbing me, undressing me with as much passion as I had undressing her. She arched her back when I sunk my face between her legs, licking, sucking her vagina into my mouth. She moaned when I reached her clitoris, licking it as it twitched and grew towards my tongue. She threw me backwards on the floor and swallowed my cock whole as we 69’d each other into a frenzy. I felt her shudder as her muscles contracted, trapping my tongue deep inside her, and then a gush of her juice sprayed out onto my face. The moment was so hot that I shot my load into her mouth with so much force that I thought it would shoot out the back of her neck. We collapsed in a heap on the floor, a jumble of juices, lingerie and clothes, spent, laughing from the intensity of the climax. I was so completely satisfied that I actually fell asleep right there on the floor.

I awoke several minutes later and she was dressed in the lingerie, standing by the counter, looking like a sex goddess.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I want to pay.” she said meekly. It appeared that she had returned to the confused woman who came into my store a short time ago although she looked a lot better.

“Pay? Pay for what?”

“For the clothing. I want to pay.”

Now I was the one who was confused.

“Look you don’t have to pay. What’s your name? Where did you come from and why did your dress fall apart in my hands? Who the hell are you?” I had questions. She had answers.

“Here” she said as she removed a small leather pouch from around her neck, placed it on the counter and ran out the door. I got up to follow, to stop her, to get answers to my questions but I stopped, naked at the open front door and watched her run down the street in bright red lingerie and disappear into the city.

I read the local papers for days looking for a story about some strange woman found sleeping in an alley or eating out of garbage cans while wearing expensive lingerie but there was nothing. Apparently, a gorgeous blond running around town looking like an expensive call girl is not so strange for Hollywood. But I was torn with questions. Was she a nutcase from some nearby home for lunatics? Or some drugged out actress who could no longer tell fantasy from reality? Maybe she was a time traveler or a space alien. I don’t know. All I have are the memories of that fabulous sexual encounter and a small leather pouch that I wear around my neck. By the way, that pouch? It’s got her name burned on the outside. Chloe. And the inside? Well, it’s filled with gold dust.

Originally posted 2013-04-01 18:08:03.