Ghostly Writer
patreon
A wide berth (Darien pt 5)
🕑 Added 2024-10-03 19:00:07 +0000 UTC(To see earlier parts, scroll down or click the Darien tag below this post)
A wide berth. That’s what he’d given her. Andrew had no fucking clue what a wide berth was, but he knew from context it meant space. That’s what he’d given her, he reminded himself. Space. He wasn’t close by.
Outside the dressing room area wasn’t close by, he told himself. She was down the corridor and then behind one of the doors. He couldn’t hear or see her. She had space. He’d given her that.
A bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he stood under the chill blast of the store AC.
He shifted his stance a little, stood as he was behind the counter they used to process the clothes customers didn’t buy. One finger was in his mouth, nail being chewed on. He shifted again, back to his previous position.
It didn’t seem to matter how much he shifted though, he couldn’t really stand comfortably. His cock was still hard, still pressing against his pants, as it had been for several minutes. He just couldn’t stop thinking about her, in there, taking off that denim jacket and sliding those jeans over her ample ass, then slipping into that dress, oh that dress…
The feeling of the black dress in his hands was still fresh in his memory. A slick, almost liquid feel. It was easily the most provocative, daring item in the store; he’d noticed it the day it arrived in stock, but he’d never sold one. Not even to some of the more loudmouthed teen girls who came in, or the odd single woman with money. It seemed to be too much for the store and definitely too much for his small town.
It wasn’t too much for her.
As well as the dress, he’d brought along the bra and panties she’d picked out, as well as the most expensive pair of black pantyhose he could find in their selection. Really it wasn’t that expensive but, it was better than the three-per-pack cheap stuff that was most of what they stocked.
She’d been walking ahead of him, ass bouncing in those jeans, as he held all of these items in his hands, trailing her all the way to the dressing room.
Now she was alone in there. Slipping the bra and panties on. Sliding the pantyhose up her legs. Stepping into the dress, drawing it up her body, perhaps looking at herself in the dressing room mirror as she did so.
His cock twitched again at his daydream.
“Excuse me? Are you still out there?”
Andrew jumped at the sound of her voice, his hands going to his crotch as if that would totally cover his raging hard-on.
“Hello?”
“Fuck fuck fuck,” he muttered before calling back. “Uh, yeah I’m still here!”
“Great. Did you figure out what I forgot?”
Andrew had no clue. He hadn’t thought of anything except her body. “No?”
“Shoes,” she called back. “This look is not going to work with sneakers. Do you have any black pumps? Maybe like a three, four inch heel would work. I’m a size nine usually, sometimes a nine and a half works better.”
Andrew felt a little light-headed. She wanted him to pick out shoes? Was this a fucking dream?
“I can go look,” he said loudly.
“Thanks, that’d be great!”
Conversation over.
Andrew turned and scurried away, desperate to find the perfect pair of shoes, to make this woman happy and if he was very, very lucky – to be able to place them on her feet.
