Jun 152016

Darren examined each piece of lingerie in turn. Three of the five brassieres would need to have semen stains removed before he could repair the cups. Two pairs of stockings would need to be re-netted. Of the five pairs of panties, three had tears in the front while two had cuts in the back.

He wrote his estimate for the lot and passed it to the customer.

The customer took her time reading the estimate. That allowed Darren to get a better look at her. She was young, maybe younger than Darren. Her long brown hair was as straight as measuring tape. Full lips were a deeper shade of red than Darren had seen before. A flimsy pink shirt stretched across what Darren estimated to be 32A cups. A white skirt wrapped around shapely hips above long tanned legs.

Her purse bore the logo of Egor Tech University. So did her watch, her earrings and her socks. Like most students at Egor Tech, she was happy to show it off.

It took her an awfully long time to read the itemized bill. She frowned and Darren felt like he had done something wrong.

“Is there a problem, Miss?” Darren asked.

“My name is Danielle,” she said. “And this is too much. I already spent my allowance for this week at the nail salon.

Darren wasn’t sure how to answer that. He glanced down at her nails. They were long, pretty and pink. “Uh, that’s too bad.”

The student smirked. “It might be your lucky day then. How about you fix my underwear and in exchange, I let you eat my pussy.”

“Excuse me?” Darren said.

“You heard me,” she said. Reaching down, Danielle pulled up her skirt. There was no underwear but there were perfectly bare sex lips.

“Uh,” Darren said dumbly. This hadn’t happened before! He wondered if he should call his boss, Mr. Jacque, at home. No, wait, of course not! Of all the days for is boss to call in sick! Oh shit, what if someone were to come in and see a customer with her skirt up? What would Mr. Jacque think?

The student kept looking at Darren. Her smirk had turned into a smile. “You better take my offer. It will probably be the only Egor Tech pussy that you ever get.”

Darren swallowed. That was true. He never really thought about having sex with someone from Egor Tech but not that she mentioned it, it did seem highly unlikely. An extraordinary opportunity was in front of him, literally with skirt raised and all. Instead of excitement, he felt fear at the idea that such a rare chance might pass him by.

He glanced back down at the damaged lingerie. It might take all night, but he could take it home and repair it himself. Perhaps he could fix them without Mr. Jacque ever knowing.

“Okay,” he said. He came around the counter. His hand shook as he flipped the open sign to ‘closed’. Nervously, he took a pencil from his pocket and wrote “Quick bathroom break” on the sign. There, if any customers came by and complained to Mr. Jacque, they would see he had an excuse.

He turned around to find Danielle already on the counter. She had her legs spread wider than looked comfortable. Her long pink nails stroked the outside of her pussy. The pink lips smiled predatorily at him.

“Hurry, before I change my mind,” she said.

Darren rushed over to her open legs. He tried to squat but found that the counter was too high. The only way to reach her sex with his mouth was to bend over at an awkward angle. It would have to do. The easier thing would be to ask her to turn around and sit in his chair but he felt that asking her to move might discourage her from their deal altogether.

Pink fingernails moved to open her pussy lips for him. Darren leaned in and gave her lips a long lick. She tasted like cherries.

“Get in there,” Danielle said. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him to her sex.

Darren’s mouth and nose pressed against her pussy. The taste of her overwhelmed him. His mouth automatically started to lick and nibble. He breathed in her sex and moaned into her pussy.

When was the last that that he ate pussy? Was it when his landlady interviewed him for the apartment? No, it was when the police women stopped him on the subway. It was best not to think about that terrifying time. Darren banished the thought and kept licking.

“Not . . . bad,” Danielle said. Her sharp nails dug into his scalp.

Darren kept licking. He relished the taste of her. The heat of her sex warmed his face. The flowing juices refreshed his parched mouth. The squirming of her pussy smothered his nose but he hungrily kept eating her.

“You love that Egor Tech pussy, don’t you?” Danielle said. “Of course you do.”

Darren did. He didn’t understand it but he loved this pussy. It was smooth, silky, wet and most of all, forbidden. He would never go to college. Girls like her never noticed boys like him. She was delicious in that special way that a treat you will never eat again can be.

He groaned into her pussy. His face felt flush, with shame or desire he couldn’t tell. There was a pain in his back from the angle he was leaning at but he ignored it. He was in ecstasy.

A powerful ache strained against his pants. He reached down to the bulge in his pants. Completely without shame, he rubbed at his restrained erection.

“Stop touching yourself!” Danielle snapped.

Darren immediately moved his hand away. Embarrassment washed over him. He paused in his oral affections.

She grabbed his ear. Sharp nails dug in and twisted. “Don’t stop licking, asshole!”

His mouth went back to work. The twisting of his ear stopped but her sharp nails remained. He licked as fast and as hard as he could out of fear and humiliation.

Darren’s cock felt twice as big within his pants. The fact that he couldn’t touch himself was agony. The slightest shift of his body made his underwear feel tighter around his erection.

Danielle shivered. “Close.”

He licked harder.

“Close,” she said again.

He licked faster.

“Close!” she cried.

Her hands pulled him tighter against her sex. Breathing became impossible. He was buried in young pussy and juices.

He never stopped licking.

“Fuck!” Danielle cried and she pushed his head away.

Darren lost his balance and fell backwards onto the floor. He looked up at the student’s wide open legs as she shuddered on the counter. Muscles spasmed up and down her long legs as she enjoyed her orgasm.

When it was over, she closed her legs. Darren didn’t move a muscle as she stepped into her skirt and pulled it back up to her waist. He watched in silence as she smoothed out her skirt and picked up her bill.

“Have them ready tomorrow morning,” Danielle commanded. “And don’t you dare masturbate with them.”

Danielle stepped over him and went to the door. She unlocked the door and without asking, flipped the sign back to ‘open’. A moment later, she was out the door and Darren was alone.

He stood up. His face was wet. So was the counter. There was a lot to clean and he needed to hurry before the next customer came in.

The pile of lingerie was still on the counter. The thought of masturbating with them was intoxicating although he knew that he never would.

Apr 132016

Darren heard a noise at his door. He put down his book and walked over to take a look. A large green envelope waited for him beside the door. Someone had slid it under the slender crack under his apartment door.

Nothing was written on the outside of the envelope. The smell of cinnamon emanated when he lifted the flap. Inside were sheets of brown paper. Small delicate handwriting filled the pages.

He walked back to his chair and sat down. His book was forgotten as he began to read.

“Dear Michael,”

Darren paused. He didn’t know a Michael. He felt like a voyeur but it passed. The message was passed under his door after all. He resumed reading.

“Dear Michael, I think of you every day. It begins with my cunt as I feel a terrible longing to be filled with your cock. Next, my nipples ached to be sucked on by your mouth. My ass yearns to sit on your lap once more and neck tilts as I recall the way you used to bite me just below my ear. It has been so long since you last claimed me but I remember every touch of your body.”

A flush came to Darren’s cheeks. He squirmed in his chair while he adjusted his pants.

“I saw you in the elevator. I said hello and you smiled shyly. You still don’t recognize me. I understand. You don’t remember the times we share. You have forgotten me but I know that one day you will remember me and on that day, I will drop to my knees and fuck your cock with my mouth.”

Darren closed his eyes. Who had he seen in the elevator lately? He assumed she must mean the apartment elevator. Was it that tall woman with the black hair? Or was it the busty woman with the short blonde hair? Surely it couldn’t have been the elderly woman who wears those red hats? Was it someone else he couldn’t think of right now?

“After seeing you again I couldn’t resist being closer to you. I waited the next day for you to go to your job. I know you leave every morning promptly at seven to go to the bus stop. I know you work every day fitting and repairing other women’s brasseries when it is my breasts you should be holding in your hands. I don’t blame you Michael for doing your job but I get so jealous sometimes.”

Darren adjusted his pants again before turning to the next page.

“When I knew you were gone, I came into your apartment. I won’t tell you how because that is my little secret and until you remember us, I don’t want you to do something foolish and prevent me from coming into your apartment. I will say, I think the plant you bought for the kitchen would do better in the living room near the light.”

Darren looked up at the plant. Yes, that was probably a better place for it.

“I went to your bathroom. The heat of your morning shower clung to my skin. A tremble went through me as I thought of you naked. In an act of desperation, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into your stall. I turned on the water and felt it spray against my body. It felt good to know I was naked in the same place that you are often nude. I hoped that perhaps when you shower, you somehow feel my presence there.”

Darren was sure that he would now.

“Your blue sponge hung on the shower head. It touches your body every day. It was still damp from washing you. I became terribly jealous of it but I reached a compromise. I took it down and sprayed your body wash onto it. I worked it into a lather and then I rubbed your sponge over my body.

It felt wonderful. I washed my breasts, imagining it was you washing me. I squeezed my ass with the sponge like I knew you would. I took my time lathering up my legs and arms. I took an extra long time to wash my lonely cunt with your sponge. I almost came in the shower but I held back.”

Darren’s mouth was dry. He paused to take a drink of water. He tried to remember if his blue sponge had felt any different lately.

“When my shower was done, I stepped out and dried myself using your towel. It was damp from your shower but I didn’t mind. It made me feel closer to you. Best of all was that now I smelled a lot like you. I thought about buying your brand of body wash but it wouldn’t be the same. I will just keep using yours.”

Darren understood this is why his body wash didn’t lasted as long as it used to.

“I went to your bedroom next. I was so turned on. Your scent was on me and it was driving me wild. At first I went to your dresser but then I had a better idea. I went to your laundry hamper and I pulled out one of your dirty pairs of underwear. It was grey with a red waistband.

That was when I went to your bed. You had made the bed but I pulled back the sheets and crawled in. I took your underwear and placed it on my face. I breathed in the smell of your crotch and wished that I could bury my face in your lap.”

Darren made another adjustment to his pants.

“My self control broke. I touched my wet cunt while I was under your sheets. I ground my naked ass into your bed. I gripped my breasts the way you used to do and I said all the filthy things that you love to hear. I did this for you even though you weren’t there. That is how much I miss you, Michael.

I pressed your underwear to my face. While my other hand fingered my cunt, I did my best to smother myself with your underwear. The smell of your crotch filled my lungs. My tongue licked at the material that once held your cock. This is how I climaxed and when I came, I screamed loud enough for your neighbor to knock on the wall.”

Darren blinked. He didn’t think his neighbors ever did that. Then again, he never gave them a reason.

“It felt so good to come in your bed. After I climaxed, I was able to control myself again. I climbed out of your bed and made the sheets. There was a damp spot but I left that for you. I hope you noticed it.”

Darren hadn’t. He was tempted to go look for it but knew better.

“I let myself out of your apartment. I hope you understand that I took your underwear with me. It still smells like you but now it also smells like my cunt. I am afraid that I have used it to masturbate with too often. I may need to return to get another pair soon.”

Darren nodded. He had wondered where those boxers went. He was afraid someone had stolen them at the laundry mat.

“Remember that I have and always will love you, Michael. I long for the day that your remember me and we can be together again. Waiting is hard but I know it is the right thing to do. We will be together again. Until then, I will always be your beloved.”

It was unsigned. Darren thought that made sense. If a longtime lover was writing to another, there would be no need for names.

Darren put the letter back in the green envelope. When he stood up, he had to adjust his pants to allow himself to walk. He went into the bedroom and walked over his nightstand. He opened the bottom drawer and added the envelope to the dozen other green envelopes he kept there.

Feb 102016

Darren walked out of the store. Mr. Jacque locked the door behind him. Darren turned to wave at his boss but the blinds had already been pulled down.

The young man shrugged. His boss was being paranoid. It was Saint Valen’s Day. Today women all over the world reenacted the passion of Saint Valen’s long denied lover. Mr. Jacque had felt it necessary to close early for the day. That was silly. As long as a man doesn’t wear red, the women left him alone.

Darren frowned. That was certainly true in Darren’s hometown, but this was Atlantica. People do things differently in the big city.

A limousine pulled onto the street. Darren watched in awe. He had never seen such a vehicle in person before. It seem to stretch forever and the black of the car was almost reflective.

It pulled close to Darren and a window rolled down. A smiling woman with perfect blonde hair leaned out. Diamonds sparkled from her ears. There was something odd about her cheeks. They were high and too prominent.

“Excuse me,” the woman said. Her enunciation was perfect. He suspected that she was from the better side of the city, like Witch Hills or Staghead.

“Yes ma’am?” Darren said. He stepped closer to the window. What could such a high class woman want with him?

“We appear to be lost,” the woman said. “Do you know the way to the Wolf Theater?”

“Of course,” Darren said. He had only lived in the city for less than a year and he had the newcomer’s pride of actually knowing where something was. “It is down this street, about four blocks away.”

“Come closer, please,” the woman said. “I can’t quite hear you. I am not used to yelling in the street,”

Darren blushed. Of course she wasn’t! He should have known better. He stepped up to the window and bent down so she could hear him better.

“You just go down thi-aaahhh!”

She lunged for him and grabbed him by his shirt collar. Powerful hands lined with rings pulled him into the car. Another hand grabbed his head and pulled cruelly. Pain blossomed on his scalp and Darren found himself trying his best to follow the painful grip of his hair. He climbed into the car through the window as more hands grabbed his arms and pulled.

Darren was inside the limousine. He was stretched out across the laps of three women. He looked up at the smiling face of a dark woman with sun bright blonde hair. An expansive chest blocked part of his view. He unconsciously judged them to be J cups. She was the one holding his hair and her sharp nails scraped his scalp.

“Look what Betty caught us for Saint Valen’s Day!” the dark woman said.

“I’m not wearing red!” Darren cried.

All three women cackled. Their laughter filled the limousine.

“You will be,” the woman in the middle said. She was pale and long dark brown hair. Her lips were too large and her eyes were too wide.

The limousine started to move. The pale woman pulled off his belt. The dark woman grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his head. The blonde woman pulled his shoes off. The pale woman and the blonde woman worked together to pull his pants completely off. Before he could kick free, he felt the belt wrap around his ankles and cinch tight.

“Stop!” Darren yelled. This wasn’t right! He wasn’t wearing red! They had no right to do this!

The dark woman let go of his hair and clamped her hand over his mouth. He kept trying to scream when her thumb pinched his nose. Darren’s eyes bulged and he stopped trying to yell. The dark woman mercifully released his nose.

“Let’s see what the boy is hiding,” the blonde said.

The pale woman pointed at his crotch. “Look at that! I think he’s lying about wanting us to stop!”

The women laughed and Darren blushed. His cock was hard and forming a tent inside his boxers. The pale woman hooked her fingers into his boxers and pulled. The cheap material easily tore and she ripped his underwear from his body.

“His head is certainly red,” the dark woman said.

The cackled again.

“Are you going to suck him?” the blonde asked.

The pale woman snorted. “This nobody? If we had picked him up in Staghead, I might have. This is just some loser from midtown.”

“Still, it is a nice cock,” the blonde said. She grabbed the tip of his cock and gave him a stroke. Darren shuddered and the women laughed. Stretched out across their laps, they were aware of every movement he made.

“Then you suck him,” the pale woman said.

The blonde laughed. “I only suck for diamonds or surgery. She ran her thumb over Darren’s sensitive cock.

“When I was younger,” the dark woman said, “I would make my Saint Valen’s men jerk themselves off while I sat on their faces.”

“Do you want to do that now?” the pale woman asked. She kept a hold on Darren’s cock and pumped it once.

Darren’s back arched and his groan could be heard under the dark woman’s hand.

“No, I’ll wait until we get a real man,” the dark woman said. “I’m worry I might kill this boy if I sit on him.”

Darren laid helpless on their laps. His arm hurt from where the dark woman had it pinned. An ache formed in his ankles from where the blonde woman had bound them. He breathed hard through his nose because his mouth was sealed.

The pale woman licked her hand. “Then I shall jerk him off,” she said.

Wet fingers wrapped around Darren’s cock. He groaned and shuddered as the woman cackled. He was at the mercy of wealthy women and in his short time with them, he understood that was no mercy at all.

The pale woman stroked his cock. A skill grip slid up and down his slick member. Expensive rings rubbed against the veins of his flesh.

The blonde woman reached across and he felt nails touch his balls. He tensed as she pulled and tugged on his sensitive sack. Nails pinched briefly before dragging across to a new spot on his scrotum.

The dark woman released his mouth but before he could gasp for air, she rolled his face towards her giant breast. Her blouse prevented him from touching her skin but the massive amount of flesh sealed around his face. He felt the warmth radiating from her breast and he was teased by softness that was being withheld from his hungry mouth.

The pale woman stroked faster. There was no technique. There was no teasing escalation. This was clinical. This was an uncaring hand abusing his sexual response.

Darren was so turned on. His balls ached with release despite the distraction of pinches. He moaned into the mountain of flesh that smothered him. The women cackled and mocked his struggles while his cock was continuously tugged and stroked.

He climaxed. The women laughed as his seed erupted.

“Such a large amount!” the blonde said.

“He must never get laid,” the dark woman said.

“He has made an awful mess!” the pale woman said.

The pale woman kept tugging on his cock. Darren squirmed as his sensitive cock was milked dry. He tried to stop her but the dark woman twisted his arm and pulled him tighter into her smothering breast.

“Hand me his pants,” the pale woman said.

“Make sure you don’t get any on the car seat,” the blonde said.

Darren felt the rough material of his pants press against his crotch. Multiple hands scrubbed at his tender flesh. They cared nothing for his comfort as they rubbed and dried his cock.

The car came to a stop. The car door by his head opened. He heard the busy street outside.

“Now!” the dark woman said and all three women lifted Darren up and threw him out the door. He landed hard on his shoulders and they pushed his feet out of the car.

“Give him his wallet,” the pale woman said. “We’re not thieves!”

Darren’s wallet thudded beside him. He rolled over on the hard sidewalk and got on his knees. His feet were still bound so he removed the belt. He grabbed his wallet and instinctively tried to put in his pants that weren’t there.

The door slammed and the limousine took off.

Darren rose to his feet. He held onto his belt and wallet as he tried to cover his crotch. The sidewalk bit at his bare feet. People walked past him and avoided looking at him.

He recognized where he was. He couldn’t take the bus like this. It was going to be a long walk back to his apartment.

Next Saint Valen’s Day, Darren would be more careful.

Sep 232015

Darren hurried his way down Pumpkin Street. His satchel was full of panties to mend when he got home. He held the satchel close to him for fear of robbers stealing the personal items of twenty customers.

A crowd was forming in the street. People donned black cowls that covered their faces but left their screaming mouths free. Cars angrily honked at the growing mass. Fists shook in the air as the crowd swelled with new members.

They were Shamers. Darren recognized them from the paper. The Mayor of Atlantica called them anarchists. The bankers called them lazy. The police called them terrorists. The critics called them outdated.

Darren stuck to the sidewalk and tried to walk past them. He had panties to mend. His boss paid him a flat fee for every panty he finished at home. There was enough in his satchel to pay for a ticket at the Owl Theater.

A woman was on the edge of the protestors. She saw Darren walking by and she grabbed his arm. Darren clutched his satchel tighter.

“Join us!” the woman yelled. The cowl concealed her eyes but her lips were angry. She wore a tight blue t-shirt that outlined her breasts. Darren identified them as 32 B cups.

“I have to go,” Darren said.

The woman held onto his arm. “They’re cutting the budget for the Stew Kitchens! The number of poor is growing but the kitchens are shrinking!”

“I’m sorry,” Darren said. He tugged gently at the arm that held him.

She didn’t let go. “Join us! Every voice counts! We will shame the rich and powerful together!” Her tongue had a black piercing that looked like a spider sat in her mouth.

“I hope you do,” Darren offered.

“I have a mask,” the woman said. She pulled out a cowl from her pants pocket. “The police won’t know who you are!”

Darren shuddered. The police would know. If there was one thing he learned from his horrible experience with the police is that they always knew.

“I’ll join!” someone said. It was a man a little younger than Darren. “Fuck the Mayor!” he said.

The woman let go of Darren’s arm. Her lips had turned from anger to disgust. She handed the extra mask to the new man. He put it on as she pulled him towards the mob in the street.

Darren was free to go but he stayed. The masked woman kept looking at him as she yelled the crowd’s slogans. He felt she was yelling it to him.

“Feed them more!” the crowd yelled.

The angry cars honked in annoyance.

“Feed them more!” the masked woman yelled while looking at Darren.

“Feed them yourself!” someone yelled from a window.

“Feed them more!” the crowd chanted as the woman pointed at Darren.

Darren didn’t move.

The masked woman turned the man she recruited towards him. As the crowd pumped their fists in the air, the masked woman dropped to her knees. The masked woman unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick pale cock.

Darren looked around. A crowd of onlookers had gathered on the street. They were screaming obscenities at the crowd but did anyone see the kneeling masked woman? He wasn’t sure.

The masked woman took the man’s cock into her lips. The new recruit stopped shouting and cheered instead. The masked woman swallowed all of the thick pale cock between her angry lips.

A throbbing began in Darren’s pants. He wondered how the spider piercing on her tongue must feel.

The masked woman’s head bobbed on the new recruit’s cock. Small breasts jiggled within her tight shirt. Her hands gripped the man’s ass to drive his cock deep down her throat.

Darren brought the satchel down over his erection. He needn’t bother. No one was looking at him. They were all shouting at the Shamers.

He looked to see if any other Shamers were engaged in such blatant acts. One woman had stripped off her shirt. Three men were baring their ass to the honking cars. No, the only one performing a sex act was the one he had refused.

A new chant had started. “Shame on you! Shame on you! Shame on you!” The mob had grown as more people joined but only one protestor was sucking the cock of another.

The masked woman turned towards Darren with the man’s cock in her mouth. He watched her cheek bulge with the tip of his cock. Her eyes were covered but Darren had no doubt that the masked woman was looking at him.

Was she trying to seduce him into the crowd? Was she punishing him for not joining her? Or was this his reward for joining that he had unknowingly given up?

Darren didn’t know. His cock ached with an urgent need to slip into angry lips and feel the tapping of a piercing.

The masked woman turned back towards the cock. The man was no longer shouting. He reached down and held her head to his crotch. Darren watched as the man shook and the masked woman shuddered.

A scream went up. People rushed past Darren and he lost sight of the masked woman. Down at the end of the street were flashes of light. Darren knew from experience that the light came from the sun reflecting off the mirror face shields of the police.

It was time to flee. Darren looked back into the mob and saw that most of them had run.

The masked woman hadn’t left. She was still on her knees although the new recruit was long gone. She wiped her lips and sucked on her fingers.

Darren couldn’t wait any longer. He ran down the street with the others. Discarded masks littered the sidewalk as he ran. His heart pounded as he heard the marching steps of the police behind him.

His cock throbbed as he ran all the way home.

Aug 262015

Darren was hunched over the counter. There was a four stitch tear in the panties he was working on. The smell of perfume wafted up from the panties.

He guided the needle in and out of the delicate fabric. The thread was a perfect match for the pink material. More difficult was the stitching. Darren had to duplicate the rather rare Xeres stitch that made up the panties. It was new to him and this was his third try.

The bell above the door rang. In walked a woman in a green blouse and black slacks. Her eyes were Asian and her black hair was a shimmering veil. Darren guessed that she was Murean.

“Is Mr. Jaque in?” the woman asked. Her voice was lyrical with a light lisp. She was definitely Murean.

“Mr. Jacque is at lunch,” Darren said. It was what Mr. Jacque claimed but he always came back flushed in the face and smelling of bananas. “Is there something I can help you with, Miss?”

“Mrs. Qwen,” the woman said she pulled off her blouse. A white bra held her lovely breasts. Darren’s practiced eye identified them as C cups. When the woman moved to unclasp her bra, Darren remembered his manners.

“There is a changing room over there,” he said.

Mrs. Qwen ignored him. She removed her bra and her plump breasts were freed. She laid the bra on the counter.

Darren picked it up. It was warm to the touch. There were no holes. The fabric was inexpensive.

“What can we do?” Darren asked.

“It is too loose,” Mrs. Qwen said. There was an economy to her speech. “I want it to grip me tighter. Can you do that?”

“Certainly,” Darren said. “We can adjust the frame and add wiring if you wish. How tight do you want it?”

“I’ll show you,” Mrs. Qwen said. “Come here.”

Darren rose without hesitation. He really should be ushering her to a changing room in case another client came in but he lacked the courage. Mr. Jaque always said to obey the clients. He decided to err on the side of obedience.

He came around the counter and Mrs. Qwen presented her back to him. A flowing tattoo of a swooping bird decorated her back. The talons looked exceedingly sharp.

Mrs. Qwen looked over her shoulder. “Give me your hands.”

Darren lifted his hands and she reached back for them. Her small fingers grabbed his wrists and pulled him forward. He felt her bottom press against his now growing erection. She brought his hands up to her breasts and his fingers curled around her flesh.

“Higher,” she said. “Lift them up more.”

Darren did. He supported the weight of her breasts in his hands.

“Curl your fingers,” she said. “Tighter. Tighter.”

He obeyed. Her flesh spilled between his fingers.

“Closer together,” she said. “Right there.”

Darren’s hands came together to her specifications.

“Can you make a bra that holds me like this?” Mrs. Qwen asked.

“Yes,” Darren said in a whisper. He wasn’t sure but he would try. Mr. Jaque would expect nothing less.

“Wait, I must test it,” Mrs. Qwen said.

Darren didn’t ask how. He held her breasts and worked hard to retain the shape of his fingers.

Mrs. Qwen reached down to her pants. Her arm came down over Darren’s arm and pinned it to her. He heard the sound of a zipper coming undone.

Darren’s heart raced. His eyes darted to the door. No one was coming through.

Mrs. Qwen reached into her pants. Her arm moved. The sound of something wet was being stroked. A new smell joined the smell of fabric and sweat.

Darren shuddered. “Stay still,” Mrs. Qwen hissed.

Darren didn’t answer but he tried to obey. The movement of her arm was jostling his own. He made subtle adjustments while maintaining his precise grip on her breasts.

He felt her nipples harden against his fingers.

Mrs. Qwen stroked faster. “A little higher,” she commanded.

Darren lifted her breasts a fraction.

Mrs. Qwen stroked harder. The wet sounds grew louder. Her breasts jiggled within his fingers.

Darren’s member throbbed against the confines of his pants. It pulsed against Mrs. Qwen’s plump bottom. She had to have noticed the pressure on her ass. Darren feared offending her but if he moved his erection away, he might disturb the gripping of her breasts.

Mrs. Qwen groaned. Her hips moved. Darren’s cock ached as it was grinded on.

“A little looser,” Mrs. Qwen said.

Darren’s fingers relaxed ever so slightly. The jiggling of her flesh increased in his hands.

Mrs. Qwen said nothing as she stroked faster. The bouncing of her flesh continued within his grip. Her ass rolled against Darren’s trapped cock.

Darren wondered if he could climax. He was close. It was so hot and tight within his pants. Her breasts were so soft and warm within his hands. A little more and he was sure that could come.

Mrs. Qwen suddenly stopped. She groaned and a shudder ran through her body.

“Yes, this will do,” she said.

She pushed his hands away and took a step forward. Darren quickly stepped behind the counter to hide the bulge within his pants.

“That is the fit I want,” Mrs. Qwen said. She pulled her blouse back on. Her bra remained on the counter.

“We will work on it right away,” Darren said.

“I will return at the end of the week,” Mrs. Qwen said. She turned and her breasts swung freely within her blouse. Out the door she went and the bell signaled her departure.

Darren let out a long sigh. Was what she asked for possible? How was he going to explain this to Mr. Jaque? More importantly, could he possibly remember how she wanted her bra to feel?

He closed his eyes. His fingers curled around the plump flesh he could still feel. His hands came together until they replicated her wishes. His arms lifted as he recalled the weight in his hands.

Yes, he could remember.

Aug 052015

Darren awoke to the sound of moans. He was face down in his bed with his hard cock trapped beneath him. His hips ground into the bed in urgent reflex.

It was dark in his bedroom. The heat was bearable and he had kicked off the sheets at some point. He thought about opening his window further than the crack he had left it but that would involve getting out of bed.

He stayed where he was and thought about the dream he was having. It was about Mrs. Lee and she had come in to the shop to get her bra fixed. In his dream she insisted on staying until he mended her 34C bra with the double lace design. She leaned on the counter topless with her tanned breasts inches from his face.

At some point she began to masturbate. Darren remembered the moans she made and groaned. His hips ground into the bed again.

Wait, he heard her moan. A chill ran down his spine despite the heat. That wasn’t Mrs. Lee. Someone was moaning in the room.

Darren rolled over. His cock pushed upwards against his boxers. He felt terribly vulnerable.

Something blocked the lights of Atlantica from coming into his window. It was the outline of a woman. He knew it was a woman because of the shapely hips, slender thighs and the round curves of breasts pressed against the window.

The woman was still. Darren was frozen as well. He wondered if she could see him. Probably not because his light was off.

It was a window cleaner. The fee for the window cleaner was a part of his rent. He remembered hearing that they only worked at night. It had something to do with sun glare.

The moans had stopped. Maybe it wasn’t sexual but the moans of laborious work. Perhaps his cock had assigned a sexual meaning.

The window cleaner began to move again. Her hand was between her thighs. The roll of her hips couldn’t be anything but sexual.

The moans began again. There was no doubt that they were sexual.

Darren’s cock throbbed. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Not only was it happening but it was happening outside his very window.

His hand moved to his crotch.

The window cleaner stopped. Darren froze as well. They were both as still as a statue.

Nothing happened. Darren was too afraid to move. Perhaps she could see inside. Or maybe she heard him. Was that possible? Well, he could hear her so maybe it worked both ways.

The window cleaner started masturbating again. She stroked herself slowly and this time Darren could hear the wet sounds of her pussy.

His cock throbbed but Darren ignored it. He knew that if he moved, she would stop again and the next time, she might move on to someone else’s window.

He tried to get a better look at the woman. The glow of the Atlantica skyline provided poor illumination. All he could see was a negative outline of her body.

She pressed herself against his window. Her breasts flattened against the glass as she moved back and forth. His expertise told him that she was a 40F at least. He would have to hold them in his hands to be sure.

The window cleaner stroked faster. Her hips swayed back and forth as she lost herself in the moment.

Her moans grew louder. They grew so loud that he almost couldn’t hear the wet squishy sounds of her sex.

Darren’s cock throbbed painfully. He wanted to grip his cock and pump it. Desperately he considered how slowly he could move without disturbing her. He bargained with himself, promising that he would only need ten or less slow tight strokes to climax. Surely, he could stroke ten times with her noticing, right?

He didn’t really think so. His hand stayed by his side while his cock throbbed helplessly.

There was a gasp. The window cleaner’s body froze. A low shuddering moan come from the window. Finally her entire body shook.

She was done. The window cleaner stood up and smeared her hand on the glass. She reached for a lever and the platform she was on inched upwards. A minute later, she was gone from sight.

Darren climbed out of bed. He walked softly to the window for fear that she would somehow hear him. His cock pulsed urgently inside his boxers.

There on the glass was a wet streak. He wondered if he would be able to see it in the morning.

Jul 082015

Darren stood carefully within the shadow of the bus stop wall. It was a hot morning in Atlantica and sweat crept down his spine. The tiny shade of the bus stop wasn’t much comfort but he took what he could.

He fantasized about the air conditioner at work. His chair was right under a vent. The air would hit him right at the back of his neck as he hunched over the hundred bras he would mend today. The sewing instruments would be cold in his hands. The bras themselves would be crisp to the touch from sitting overnight in their work pouches. The smell of perfume would drift up from the bras.

A clicking sound woke him from his daydream. His eyes opened and blinked back sweat. The source of the clicking was a blonde woman with high heels. Sunglasses concealed her eyes and her face was a mask of urban solitude. A professional skirt wrapped around her stocking clad legs while a blouse of the latest fashion covered a proud chest.

Thirty-eight D cups, Darren assessed. It was his profession to know.

The blonde woman walked past the bus stop towards a mailbox. She stopped in front of the mailbox and adjusted her skirt. She reached around and fidgeted with the zipper.

Darren caught himself staring and looked away. He looked down the street for signs of the bus. There was none.

He pulled the schedule form his pocket. He had just moved to Atlantica a few weeks ago and the buses still confused him. It should have been here by now.

Darren glanced back at the blonde woman. She was bent over the mailbox now. Her skirt was unzipped to her waist and her bare ass was exposed. Black panties were pulled down to her ankles. She had her head down and a veil of blonde hair covered her face.

This time he stared. The woman’s ass was pale white. A hint of a blonde bush could be seen between her legs.

Darren wondered if she was in distress. Should he go over and ask if she was okay? Surely this wasn’t normal?

It was so hard to tell in Atlantica.

Darren’s member stirred within his slacks. He groaned. Multiple experiences measuring women’s busts had taught him how poorly his work slacks covered erections. He turned as subtlety as he could towards the wall and hoped the shade would conceal the rising bulge.

A small group of people walked down the street. Darren relaxed a little. There were two men and a woman walking in that focused rush that was so typical of Atlantica pedestrians. One of them was bound to approach the bent over blonde woman.

One of the men saw her and went back to talking on his phone. The woman saw the bare ass and increased her pace of walking. The other man made no sign of noticing. All three of them walked past the strange woman.

Darren bit his lip. That wasn’t what he was expecting. Did they avoid the woman because that is what you are supposed to do when such a thing like this happens?

He thought about calling the police. A shiver ran down his spine. No, he remembered his last encounter with the police.

Cars drove past. The blonde woman stayed bent over the mailbox. The sun added a glare to her pale bottom.

This must be some custom he was unfamiliar with. He thought about going over there and asking her. It was hard not to see her position and not interpret some sort of invitation. One does not expose their ass and bend over without expecting some sort of response, right?

What would Darren say? He tried a few questions in his mind but they were all wrong. They were too forward or too risqué. Mostly though the questions he thought of would betray how naïve he was about this big city.

He looked down the street. Still no bus.

A man walked past Darren and towards the woman. The man’s suit was high quality and his expensive shoes put Darren’s to shame. The man paused behind the woman and set down his briefcase. He unzipped and pulled down his pants.

Darren felt that he should really say something about this point. Was the man about to take advantage of the woman’s vulnerable state? Or was this something that happens around here?

He kept quiet.

The man guided his member into the woman’s sex. He let out a loud groan as he entered her. His hands clenched her skirt as he began to fuck her.

The woman didn’t look like she was in trouble. Her arms wrapped around the mailbox for support. She spread her legs further to let him reach deeper.

The sound of the man slamming into the woman’s pale ass echoed down the street. Darren’s erection ached for attention. The shade of the bus stop wall was little comfort to the heat within Darren’ slacks.

Another group of people walked down the street; three men and two women this time. They all turned to look at the fucking couple but none of them said anything. They kept walking.

This must be a thing Darren decided. No one was calling the police. There were no looks of shock. It was perfectly normal for a woman to pull her panties down and bend over until someone fucked her.

The man slammed into the bent over blonde. His hips worked with the steady relentless pulse of a stitching machine.

Darren wondered if he could have fucked her. She never lifted her head to see who was fucking her. She kept her head down even though he was fucking her so hard that the mailbox was shaking. It seemed to Darren that she didn’t care who fucked her.

He thought about how nice it would have been to touch that pale ass. He wondered if her sex would feel hotter than the Atlantica asphalt. Could he keep an erection while fucking on the side of the street?

His erection was confident that he could.

The heavy squeal of air brakes came from down the street. His bus was coming. Darren kept staring at the fucking couple. The man was going faster now and would soon climax.

The bus stopped. Darren reluctantly climbed aboard. He slipped his card into the machine and waited for acceptance.

Outside the front of the bus, the man kept fucking the bent over blonde.

CLICK! His card was accepted and pushed back to him. Darren took the card and looked for a seat. There were no window seats available.

Darren sat down. The bus drove on. He thought about his missed opportunity to fuck a stranger on the side of the street.