Ghostly Writer
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Sneaking a peek (Darien pt 7)
🕑 Added 2024-10-16 00:00:06 +0000 UTC“I’ve got a few options here for shoes,” Andrew said, balancing multiple boxes in his arms outside the dressing room door. “Do you want me to leave them outside?”
“No,” said the bright voice of the woman on the other side of the door. “You can bring them in.”
Andrew took a deep breath and pressed one finger on the dressing room door, trying to be as gentle as he could, like he was approaching the nest of an easily startled bird. The door opened easily, almost like it was opening specifically for him.
He saw a glimpse of flesh reflected in the mirror. His eyes snapped to it, watching eagerly as his glimpse turned into a look, a stare. Had she not dressed yet? Was she naked?
The door had fully opened. Suddenly he realized he was being stared at, too.
“Are those the shoes you picked out?”
He heard what she said and knew it was a rhetorical question, but still tried to form the words, mumbling and fumbling as he handed over shoe boxes, trying not to meet her gaze.
She wasn’t naked, not quite, but she might as well have been. She was holding the dress she’d picked out against her body, but beneath that, who knew what she wore. Andrew hoped for his own sake it was the bra and panties set they’d picked out.
Then the image of that bra and those panties surged blood to his cock, and he wished he hadn’t hoped for that at all.
Andrew turned, not completely but just enough that he could plausibly say he wasn’t looking at the woman out of respect, and not because his dick was getting hard.
“Is it still okay,” the woman asked, her voice light and playful, “if you stick around and give me your opinion on the outfit?”
“Sure, yeah, of course, yeah,” he babbled.
“Good,” she said. “Stay right there.”
Andrew heard a soft thump, the sound of a piece of clothing hitting the floor. He allowed himself to look down, and saw the dress lying in a heap. The woman had dropped it.
She was sitting down. She was sitting down. The words rang in Andrew’s head. Without thinking he started to look over at her, turning his head in the opposite direction at the last moment – but that led his eyes back to the original position; looking at the mirror.
In which he saw the woman, paying no attention to him, pull up her foot to place it on the edge of the bench she sat on. The pantyhose Andrew had grabbed was balled up and ready. As Andrew watched she inserted her toes inside, wiggling her toes, aligning the seam correctly. Then like a dark flow of water, she pulled the hose up, slipping it over her foot, ankle and calf in one smooth movement. When she got to the knee, she repeated everything on the other foot. In moments, while Andrew still watched, she had the hose half-on.
His cock was shifting like a snake, eager to strike. A bead of sweat dripped down his back, landing between his butt cheeks.
“Excellent choice, by the way,” the woman said. “Not just because it’s my favorite color, either. So much pantyhose these days is cheap, disposable rubbish. You have to pay more to get quality.”
“Those were – uh, are – the most expensive pair we have in stock,” Andrew confirmed. “I’m glad we had them in stock.” He wasn’t so glad about the fact he’d have to pay for them. Customers were never allowed to try on hose, but when she asked, he had to oblige. It was worth every penny so far, considering he felt like he had a flagpole between his legs.
“I’m glad you had them too,” the woman said, sounding very pleased. “They look great so far.”
Andrew’s eyes flickered to the mirror again, seeing her stand and begin to slide the hose up, over her knees and thighs. He swore he could hear her moan softly as she ran her fingertips over the hose, nails flashing in the light that came through the open door. As she pulled the hose up and over her ass, she turned slightly to check her reflection.
And locked eyes with Andrew in the mirror.
He jerked his head back, almost whimpering in fear.
“Your name is… Andrew, isn’t it?”
She was going to get his full name. She was going to report him to management, maybe even to the head office. Maybe this would get out on the internet. Maybe it would be a scandal. Maybe he’d never work again.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, as meek as a mouse.
“You can look, if you like,” she said casually. “You don’t have to sneak a peek.”
When he didn’t immediately turn around – paralyzed as he was with both fear and arousal – she put her hands gently on his shoulders and encouraged the movement. He felt one foot lift, the other pivot and suddenly he was staring at her directly. Less than four feet away. He could have lifted one arm and placed his fingers on her gorgeous cheek, pulled her in for a kiss. Perhaps that would distract her from the tent being erected in his pants.
She was smiling at him, which did not help. “You’re doing a great job here Andrew,” she said, as if this level of service was given to everyone who randomly walked into the store. “I’m impressed.”
“Th-thank you,” he stammered, mostly out of pure terror that she’d look down and see –
She looked down. One eyebrow raised up. She looked at him. “Why, Andrew,” she said softly, her sexy, throaty voice sending shudders through him, “Is that… for me?”
