Jay Friday
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Shoplifting
🕑 Added 2024-11-01 15:00:00 +0000 UTCI was in a dressing room, just pulling on a new pair of jeans that, if I did say so myself, looked pretty good on me. And they should; this was an upscale store, and they weren't cheap. I was checking myself out in the mirror when I heard a bit of commotion from the front of the department store. It was one of those dressing rooms with a bathroom-stall style door -- it closed, and locked, but left about a foot of visible space under the door of the tiny room.
In that foot of space under the door, I could see a pair of feet in sneakers, and hear a muttered, "Shit."
After a moment, it was feet and knees. And then legs and hips. And then a young woman's face peered up at me, assessing. After a beat, she slid, dexterously, into the changing room under the door. She immediately hopped up onto the small bench that was against one of the walls of the changing room.
There were footsteps from outside the door.
A lot had happened, I was wearing an unbuttoned pair of jeans, and my mind was still catching up with events when there was a tentative voice from outside the door; it was the sales associate who had showed me to the dressing room. "Um, sir?"
"Yes?" I answered, curiously, my eyes on the girl perched on the bench.
"I know you've been trying on outfits, but just checking to see if you've seen or heard a young woman come through here? Young, maybe in her mid 20s, short, with dark hair? We've seen her here before; she may be shoplifting."
The young, black-haired, short, roughly-mid-20s woman in front of me was holding, I realized, a variety of clothing draped over one arm.
"I, uh..." I trailed off, hesitating. What the fuck was the right thing to do? She certainly looked like she was shoplifting. I gave her a more thorough once over.
She was petite, with long, straight, black hair. Her skin was pale, with dark makeup and lipstick. A patchwork of black tattoos stood out on her pale arms -- a skull, some roses, a dagger or sword, some kind of bird of prey. The overall effect was both feminine and goth. She had a toned, slender build, was wearing black leggings and a black athletic tank top -- if I had seen her on the street, she could've been coming from or on her way to the gym. Except, you know, that she was apparently stealing stuff from the store.
My eyes admittedly lingered on the tank top. For a smaller girl, she was...well, generously endowed. And the tank top was very flattering, tight and supportive. I couldn't help but stare for a moment at the full cleavage the top created.
But eventually, my eyes met hers. Green eyes looked back at me. Pretty, almost elfin features; the glint of a nose piercing. She was shaking her head, a look of mild concern on her face. I glanced at the clothes she was holding onto, all still with the store tags on them. Pretty, but definitely a shoplifter, I thought ruefully. Helping her hide would be a bad idea. I opened my mouth to be a good, law-abiding citizen.
She reached up with one hand, still making eye contact with me, and hooked one finger in the top of her tank top, pulling it down, putting even more smooth, pale cleavage on display. Her tits looked great. As I watched, she pulled the top lower; at this point, the tank top was just barely still covering her nipples. She cocked her head to one side, perhaps slightly amused, waiting to see what I'd do.
My reaction was simple: I was staring openmouthed. In my defense, not only was she hot, but this was a weird, unexpected situation to process. A few seconds passed, before the sales associate prompted, again, "Sir?"
Fuck it. "Uh...sorry, trying to figure out if these pants fit. No, haven't heard or seen anything like that back here..." The cheeky smile on the woman's pretty face was a nice reward.
"Oh, okay. Well, if you hear anything or see anything, please let us know; she might still be in the department store." We both held still, listening to the associate move out of the dressing room area.
"W...what are you doing?" I stammered at her.
"Trying not to get arrested," she whispered, pulling her hand away from her tank top. "And keep your voice down. It's not like you'd be talking to yourself while you were trying on clothes."
"Well, good luck. I did you a solid. You should go," I hissed at her. I made a shooing motion with my hand.
"Whatever, it's not like it was out of the kindness of your heart. You just liked the view. And I can't leave yet. The coast probably isn't clear; they're still looking for me. I'm staying." She looked defiantly at me.
"Well, I'm gonna go then..."
I leaned towards the door, but she reached out and grabbed my arm. "No, you can't. If you go, the dressing room won't be being used. They can't search it while you're using it to try on clothes; it's store policy. You have to stay."
"Hey, I'm not your accomplice, lady, I'm..." I trailed off as she hooked her finger back into her tank top, pulling it down again. The smooth, even skin of her breasts, that cleavage...fuck. Her tits really were hot. I could feel my cock getting hard.
"Look, I saw the way you were staring. I'll make it worth your while if you help me out," she whispered, a crooked smile on her face.
I was torn. She was hot, but she was also obviously...well, up to no good, right? "Why are you even shoplifting this stuff anyway?" I whispered back.
She shrugged. "It's pretty straightforward. I like nice clothes and I don't make much money." She let her tank top go. "Now. Poke your head around the corner and ask if they'll bring you another couple of pairs of jeans in different sizes or colors. While you've got a view of the department store, see if they've called security or the cops. If they haven't, I'll just make a break for it."
I considered. "What do I get for helping you?"
Her lips quirked up. "Want to see me model an outfit? I picked out some good stuff..."
Draped over her arm, I could see sundresses, crop tops, some lingerie...I hesitated, but only a moment, before nodding. I was torn, but she was hot enough that the risk seemed worth it.
I peered around the corner. Sure enough, there were one or two mall cops talking to the sales associate fairly animatedly. She glanced my way and came over. I explained that the pair of jeans I had on felt a little tight, didn't quite fit right, and that I wanted to try a larger size and their athletic cut. The sales associate nodded, looking a little relieved to be having a more normal interaction with a customer, and said she'd bring some by to the dressing room.
I returned, to find that the would-be shoplifter had changed.
She was standing, looking at herself in the mirror. The athletic wear was stacked neatly in a tidy pile on the bench. Instead, she was wearing a sundress. Pale yellow, with a deep scoop neck that showed off those big tits, and short, showing off creamy thighs.
The tenseness of the situation -- would I be in trouble if the store realized I was helping her? -- heightened the arousal I was feeling, being in an enclosed space with this woman. My mouth was dry. "Y-you look, uh, good..."
"Yeah? You think so?" She did a little spin in front of me.
"Yeah..." I stared as the skirt of the sundress brushed against me as she spun.
"Well, thanks. It's not really my style...and it's cut a little low in front..." I watched in the mirror as she turned to face it, adjusting the way the top was draped across her tits. Her eyes found mine in the mirror. "But you seem to like that," she whispered, flirtatiously.
I'll admit it. I was fully hard, now. She looked so hot. Her lips were parted as she glanced up at my eyes, holding my gaze in the mirror.
And then the sound of footsteps in the hall outside the dressing rooms made us both freeze. As they got louder, the young woman whirled around, and with smooth grace, leaped into my arms.
Well, I'd like to say into my arms. In point of fact, I was so astonished at what had happened that she basically just wrapped herself around my torso and clung there for a moment before I reacted, automatically reaching and putting my hands on her lower back to hold her up against me.
She didn't want her feet to be visible under the dressing room door, I realized, as my brain caught up.
"Okay, sir, I've pulled a few different sizes and fits for you in that same jean, I'll just leave them here, grab them whenever you're ready...and anything you don't want can go on the return cart. Let me know if you need more help!" The cheery voice of the sales associate came from the other of the door.
I murmured agreement, but admittedly, I was totally preoccupied. The young woman felt good. Her back was warm under my hands; my hands were low enough on her back that I could just feel the swell of her ass underneath them.
And those full breasts, all softness, were pressed against my chest. I glanced down at them, took in the way they looked.
Her toned thighs wrapped around me felt smooth. I realized her legs were crossed behind my back.
I looked back up, and realized her face was only inches from mine, lips parted. The sexual tension was palpable. My cock twitched, and I thought I saw amusement flicker over her eyes for a moment. I could feel her groin, warm, against my erection.
"Well aren't you nice and strong," she whispered. "I was worried I'd knock you over. Glad I didn't." Maintaining eye contact, she slowly extricated herself from around me.
Fuck. I was so turned on that I could feel myself leaking precum in my boxers.
"What, uh...what now?" I said, hopefully.
She smiled flirtatiously, and toyed with the decolletage of the dress. "Why don't you poke your head out and see if the coast is clear. Maybe you can ask her to bring shirts or something she thinks would go with the jeans? While you do that, I'll change into something more my style..."
This time, I went to check eagerly. I at least remembered to adjust my erection to be less obvious. There were uniformed cops there, now, near the exits, talking to one another. One was taking a statement from the sales associate. They must be checking camera footage or something, be confident she hadn't left the building.
But I wasn't thinking about that as I asked the sales associate to bring some shirts by. She nodded, distracted, saying she'd be done in a moment and would do that.
I barely noticed. I was wondering what the shoplifter would be wearing. I hurried back to the dressing room.
I wasn't disappointed. She was wearing a matching bra and panties set, both jet black, staring at herself in the mirror. She turned, looking at me as I entered. Taut, smooth, pale legs were on full display, including some more tattoo work on her upper thighs. With her body twisted, I could see her ass -- pale, firm, and round.
But her tits stole the show. They looked incredible. Round, inviting. The cups of the lingerie top were doing their best, and provided just enough coverage that I couldn't see her nipples -- just the pale shelf of her breasts, full and inviting.
She giggled at my stunned silence. "Now this is more my style. What do you think?" She twirled, her ass flexing as I watched.
"I...wow...that bra..."
She smirked. "Thanks. But it's probably a size too small. And I do tend to like a little more support..." As I watched, she cupped her hands under her tits, hefting them as if to test the support the bra offered.
Watching them bounce, I felt my cock twitch again, leaking even more precum.
After a moment when I didn't say anything, she prompted, "So...are the cops out there, or...?" She was still toying idly with her tits in that bra, adjusting the straps, fidgeting with the cups. I found myself unable to look away.
"Oh, uh...yeah, some actual police out there now..." I mumbled the words out as I stared. I didn't even care that I was helping her commit a crime anymore. Totally worth it. This was a good day.
She sighed. "Oh, no..." She frowned, prettily, a look of concern on her face. "It's going to be so hard to get out of here. Well, I really appreciate you helping me."
I wasn't sure what to say, but it was a lot easier to look than to talk, anyway. So I just stared at her some more, my eyes roving over the curves and lines of her body. She watched me watching her, her fingers toying with the panties now, adjusting fabric.
Either way, a few moments later, the sales associate approached the room. This time -- to my disappointment -- the shoplifter simply sat on the bench, pulling her feet up and out of view and crossing her legs.
She winked at me as we heard the sales associate's voice. "Here are a few shirt options. I'll just leave them right outside the door, sir. I'm almost done with the police; they'll be leaving shortly and I'll be back to offer more personalized service; I'm so sorry for how disruptive this has been." She retreated.
"Bring them in," the shoplifter whispered. "Otherwise she'll get suspicious."
I nodded, and, once I was sure the sales associate was gone, I opened the door and pulled in the shirts.
"What, uh...what do we do now?" The situation was confusing enough on its own, and being in a small, enclosed space, staring at her tits, was making it impossible to think straight.
"Hmm, how could we pass the time..." she put a finger to her lips as if pondering, and then shrugged. "You should try on some jeans and put some on the return cart. It'll start to be weird and they'll get suspicious if you don't."
"B-but..." I was going to change? In front of her?
She must've been able to tell what I was thinking, because her mouth formed into a sly grin. "I mean, you're seeing a lot of me, aren't you?"
She had a point. Feeling a little self-conscious, I unbuckled the jeans, pulling them down around my ankles and stepping out of them.
The shoplifter made a suppressed purr in the back of her throat.
She leaned forward. She was petite enough that, sitting on the low bench, she was exactly at eye level with my waist.
"Is all that for me?"
She was staring straight at my cock. Which was, I now realized, rock hard, and clearly outlined in my boxer briefs. There was an obvious wet stain where precum was leaking out.
I blushed, looking down with embarrassment. "I, uh..."
"That's so flattering." She murmured the words out.
"Y-you like it?" Fuck, this was hot. She sounded so turned on.
"Mmmhm." The sound was low, throaty, and full of enthusiastic agreement. She licked her lips. "Why don't you just put some jeans outside but keep the pants off. This is fun."
Mouth dry, aroused beyond belief, I nodded, dumped a few pairs of the jeans hastily on the return cart, and pulled the door closed again behind me.
She was leaning forward eagerly, now, inches away from the tent my cock was forming in my boxers. The way her tits looked, with her leaning forward, I couldn't help staring down at them again.
"You've got a thing for my tits, huh," she whispered. Her voice was confident, knowing. "I've seen how you're looking at them. You like big tits? They look good on a small frame like mine, don't they?"
I nodded, dumbly.
"Have you ever been with a girl who looked like this? Who had tits like these?" As she spoke, she slid her hands over her cleavage, squeezing them.
I couldn't look away. I shook my head. I had had a few girlfriends over the years, some hookups, but no one that looked as hot as her. And none in a situation as hot as this.
She bit her lip. She was kneading her breasts, now, through the bra, looking down at my hard cock straining against my boxers. "Yeah, your cock loves them, doesn't it, Greg? Do you want to jerk off for my tits?"
Had I told her my name? The question flitted through my mind dimly, but it wasn't even close to the most important thing in this moment. I nodded at her again, desperately.
"Okay, then...so...why don't you get it out..." she purred the words out.
I immediately dropped my boxers where I was standing. I had never felt so much urgency to be stroking my cock in my entire life.
"Fuck yeah," she said, admiringly, staring at my cock.
My length was rock hard. I was throbbing, and the head was so swollen it was practically purple. Staring at her tits -- which she helpfully pushed up and together with her hands, making a pouting expression -- I started to stroke myself.
Fuck. This whole situation was so hot. My cock was sticky, slick with precum. It felt so good to finally be touching it. This wasn't going to take long at all. Which was fine by me.
I started pumping it nice and fast. She made a murmur of appreciation. "Mmm, yeah, baby, work that dick...you're going to make a big load for my tits, aren't you?"
"G-god...yes..." I moaned the words out, feeling the orgasm getting closer.
“Show me how much you like them. That cock is gonna cum fast for them, aren’t you?” As she spoke, she squeezed her tits, fondled them.
“Y-yeah…oh, fuck, I’m starting to get close…” I said.
Too loudly.
"Um, sir? Everything okay?" The sales associate must have been nearby. She was coming down the corridor, towards the dressing room we were in. I froze, panicked, dropped my hands away -- I was right on the edge of cumming, and I couldn't think clearly about what to do next. But continuing to jerk off with the associate right outside seemed like a really bad idea.
The shoplifter, smirking up at me, clearly didn’t agree. She leaned forward, and gently, smoothly, nestled the head of my cock between her tits. The shaft was still bare -- and, staring into my eyes, she started pumping it with one hand. Her lips parted, and she mouthed, shhhh.
I bit back a moan.
"Sir? Everything alright?" The sales associate, again. She sounded suspicious, now. I was aware that, if she glanced under the doors, she'd be able to see my boxers around my ankles. It would absolutely look like I was jerking off. Which was pretty close to the truth.
"Y-ye--" but I couldn't get the word out. As I spoke, the shoplifter brought her other hand up to my balls, and forced another inch of my cock between her soft, creamy tits. The words broke off into a groan.
Looking up at me slyly, still pumping all the while, she mouthed, you're gonna cum for me.
She was right, I realized. I was frozen, panicked. I didn't want to cum, not until after the sales associate had moved away. I tried to fight it off. "S..sorry...think I tweaked something when I was trying on one of the pair of jeans, so embarrassing...I'm, uh, all set here..."
The shoplifter redoubled her efforts. Her hand was moving fast, now. It was relatively quiet -- but I suspected the sales associate could hear something out of the ordinary.
"I see. Well, sir, you've been trying pairs on for a while; any comments on the fit you might like?"
Pouting at me, the shoplifter mouthed the words as well. Any comments on the fit?
As she did, she pulled one hand away from her balls, wrapping it under and around her breasts, pushing them together more tightly around my cock. The soft, slick, warm valley of her cleavage -- and the sight of more of my dick disappearing between her tits -- was overwhelming.
Fuck. I was trying to hold off cumming until the sales associate left.
"Sir, I'm going to have to insist that you please finish up." The sales associate again, more suspicious now.
The shoplifter looked up at me, a pleading look up on her face, and mouthed, please finish up. She leaned further towards me, pushing even more of my length between her breasts.
I could barely think to form words, and the orgasm I could feel building up in my balls was so intense that there wasn't going to be any denying it. What should I do? I looked around the enclosed space, searching for a solution in the precious seconds I knew I had before I went over the edge. Sundress...the tidy pile of clothes she had taken off...the bench...a bunch of jeans...
But I couldn't focus on anything besides the physical sensations of my cock between those tits while she jacked me off. I knew there wasn't any way to stop what was about to happen.
In a brief moment of brilliance as I tumbled over the edge, I managed to get out a half-strangled, "I-I think I just pulled a muscle in my baaa---"
The orgasm overtook me and I let out a grunt and started cumming, hard. The shoplifter expertly milked me between her tits through the orgasm. I looked down, watching as my cum sprayed into the valley of her cleavage. I came enough that it flooded up and out of the deep valley between her tits, coating the tops of her breasts. It felt like the orgasm would never end.
But eventually, it did. And reality came crashing home. This was not a good situation.
I tried to salvage it. Panting, dazed, I said, "S-sorry...I'm having some intense back spasms." I knew I sounded weak, a bit woozy. The way someone who was having back spasms -- or recovering from a massive orgasm -- might sound.
"Okay, sir. Can you see if you're able to come out of there, please? If you come out of the dressing room area we can get you medical attention. Let me know if you're unable to do that and I can call 911." The sales associate sounded torn between suspicion and real concern, now -- nobody wanted a liability issue on their watch.
"Y-yes...I'll just need to move slowly...give me a moment..." Gingerly, I redressed. The shoplifter watched me, silent, and smirking. As I prepared to leave the room, I looked back at her, questioningly. She blew me a kiss, and then dipped her fingers between her breasts, and gave me a sticky wave. Bye, she mouthed.
I was too dazed to do anything besides think about myself. Feigning awkward, uncomfortable movements, I followed the sales associate across the store to a sitting area they had set up while she went to find the paramedics.
Who evaluated me, obviously determined I didn't need transport to a hospital, and told me to take some painkillers, all while the sales associate looked on in disapproval.
It wasn't until I was taking my jeans and two shirts (I felt like I had to buy something, after what I had put the poor associate through) to the front counter that I realized...my wallet was missing all of my cash and credit cards.
Well, that explains the name.
Instead, on my driver's license, there was a sticky note. Greg, you're such a fun accomplice. Maybe we can team up for another heist sometime. xoxo, Talia.
I went back to the dressing room to look for my wallet, and found it -- unsurprisingly -- completely empty. No cash or credit cards, no sundresses or lingerie...and certainly no Talia.
