I saw her every day just as I would be checking out of work. At first all I noticed was that she was much prettier than most of the overnight crew that spent the hours you and I sleep, toiling to finish their assigned tasks.
She was always very polite, but never smiled. If anything was odd about her it was that. She had a lovely smile, I'm sure, as occasionally I would get a look at her perfect teeth. I felt very guilty every time I looked at her, for what I was thinking. You see, she wasn't more than 19 or 20 at the most, and I........ I old enough to be her Grandfather. But even being nearly 40 years her senior I was not without the capacity for lust. Especially since my wife had decided five years previous that sex was no longer part of our relationship..
But beyond the obvious terminal case of blueballs,..I found her fascinating. Night after night, as I made my way out of the building, there she was, diligently intent on her tasks. I would always say hello, and she would reciprocate, and I would be on my way...
And in my minds eye, I could see her standing there, wearing only her half-slip and silk and lace bra.
Months of this private lusting and wondering made my nightly salutations almost automatic. Until that last night. That wonderous night...
The night crew was thin, only four working, as I took my nightly sojourn toward the exit door. As I passed Julie, yes her name was Julie, I said "Hey, how are you?". She looked up from her work, and said "Very well, thanks".. The "thanks" actually had a soft lilt to it....and, sweet kidneys of Christ.....a SMILE.
I stopped dead in my tracks, riveted to the spot, time standing still, that sweet smile almost pulling me..... toward those pouty lips..those lips with just a slight moist glossiness.. It seemed like a week later when I came out of my reverie...I had only been standing there for 10 seconds. My god, I thought, what the hell? In slow motion I started to turn toward the door when I heard, through the fog in my brain, Julie call my name. She didn't just say my name, though. There was a whisper quality to it. Or was that in my mind as well? Along with all the different pictures I had of her in a hundred different states of undress in there...
As I turned back toward her, everything snapped back into place, as I dropped my laptop. "Shit!", I exclaimed. Julie laughed!
The ice truly broken now, but thank god not the laptop. It's cushioned case saving it from any real damage.
"Can we talk?", she asked me. "Sure", I replied.. standing there like an idiot, clutching the computer. She turned and walked toward the stockroom area. Gods what a perfect body she had. Even in her 'work clothes', a pencil skirt, tailored pink silk blouse, moderate but attractive shoes...
As we walked into the stockroom, a soft blast of warm air greeted us, from a ceiling mounted area heater. As if in a movie, her long blonde hair swirled.... She walked into the tailor shop, at the very back of the building, turned and sat on one of the sturdy ironing tables, the cover turned brown from years of pants creased, shirts pressed.
I pulled a chair from a desk nearby, reversed it, and sat down.
"So what's up?", I asked.
"I've been here for nearly two years, now", she stated.
"Really... I didn't think it had been that long", I replied.
"Yes, she said. And I'd really like to be doing something else. Inventory adjustment is not my thing. It pays some of the bills, but my brain is turning to mush".
"So, how can I assist you in that endeavor?" I asked.
She began to try and explain how I might be influential in her quest.
But my mind was not entirely tuned into her speech. Her voice, yes, as it rose and fell in soft inflection as she went on. But I was looking at her, boldly taking in everything. Everything.
As if she knew about my minds eye, she was wearing what appeared to be a black silk slip beneath the black pencil skirt. The skirt had ridden up a bit when she sat down, and some very delicate lace, and some slip seductively lay exposed, against her stocking clad thigh.
My gaze traveled to her waist, at which her soft blouse tucked. Her breasts pulled away at the silk, straining the tuck. I noted she was either not wearing a bra, or was wearing a soft-bra, as the faint evidence of her nipples could be seen through the material.
Suddenly I was aware there was something different in the room. She had apparently stopped talking, and was awaiting my reply. As my gaze met her face, her expression went from business to.... well, amusement, and then that smile was there again. And time stopped again. And now her eyes joined the smile. And in those eyes I saw something else. Realization. She knew. I was busted. Now what?...
Sharp admonition? Anger? Laughter?...
To my utter amazement, the smile stayed, even broadened a bit. She leaned back on the table, her hands going out behind her a bit as her breasts strained at the silk of her blouse. And, it appeared she might have been cold, as her nipples were decidedly more pronounced through the blouse. I was about to break out in a sweat. As she leaned back a little more, her right hand nearly knocked over the heavy commercial steam iron. She caught it before it tipped.
"Damn, this thing is heavy!", she exclaimed. The action of grabbing for the iron pulled her skirt up some more, at least three inches of black silk and lace were exposed now.
She turned back from rescuing the appliance to catch me staring at her exposed thigh and slip.
"Why, Mr. Christobal, you are staring", she feigned embarrassment.
"Please excuse me, Julie...it was, unavoidable", I said.
"It's okay", she said. "I'm flattered". That smile again.
Now it was her turn to stare. Her gaze centered on my crotch, where it had become quite obvious that I was quite aroused at the sight of her.
"My, my", she nearly whispered, "you must really enjoy looking at me. Is it my thigh or my slip that did that?"
"A little of both", I said. 'The combination is quite.... exciting".
"You enjoy women in lingerie?", she asked.
"Yes, I said, 'absolutely".
Julie slid off the ironing table, and in the process, her skirt became hung up on the edge of the cover, and as her feet touched the floor, fully half of one of her thighs was exposed, and the other draped by the part of her slip that stayed put. The lingerie was exquisite. Clearly silk, not synthetic. She had excellent taste. Her exposed thigh was lovely, clad in a stocking that adhered to it with elastic. her skin looked as smooth as the silk of the slip.
She looked up from my rather obvious erection to my face... Clearly the lust I had for her was evident in my face, as well as elsewhere. She moved toward me. As she did, she reached to the side of the skirt, slid down the zipper, and pulled it over her hips. It slid over the slip and to the floor. She kicked it away. The slip was still hung up on one side, and she pulled it back into place, just as she reached where I sat.
She took my hands, and pulled me up from the chair. I walked around the chair and stood very close to her. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, and I could feel it pulsing in my cock. She stood there, in front of me, in a black silk slip, and pink silk blouse under which she was probably not wearing a bra. My minds eye was officially bloodshot, and a tear issued from it, a tear of gratitude.
"What else turns you on, Mr. Christobal? Tell me, I'm very curious", she asked.
"No...Julie, I don't think so", I said, "Too much, too soon. This is already freaking me out".
And I was freaking out. My months long fantasy had come to fruition before my eyes, and Julie asked for my longings, my desires. It was nearly too much.
"Well, I know you like to watch me in my lingerie", she said, "and I think you are very much attracted to me. So, you have a lingerie fetish, as well as wanting me, right?"
"Yes, very obvious I guess", I said.
She moved right up against me, pressing herself to me.
"Tell me the rest", she said. "I'll do whatever you want".
She must have heard me swallow hard at her statement. Because she smiled at me again.
"I..... I... it...Christ Julie, it's embarrassing", I said.
"What's your first name, Mr. Christobal?", she asked.
"It's Jason, Jay of you like", I replied.
"Don't be embarrassed Jay", she said, "I would like to know...and maybe I can help you realize it"
Julie placed her hand on my straining erection within my pants, and began to rub her hand against it....up, and down...squeezing me as she did so. She stared up into my eyes.....waiting......rubbing...squeezing, very, very slowly.
"It's a destruction fetish", I said.
"Destruction?", she asked,"what do you like to destroy?"
"Lingerie....silk lingerie, real silk, not synthetics", I replied.
She felt my cock jump in her grasp, confirming my statement.
"Really?", That is a very costly fetish," she said.
"That's why it remains a fantasy-fetish", I said. "It never comes to fruition unless I buy something, and take care of it myself".
Julie smiled at me again, that wonderful sweet smile.
Very slowly, she lowered herself to her knees, carefully placing her discarded skirt beneath her. She slowly undid my pants, my now engorged penis in her right hand, as her left pulled away my underwear. She stroked my cock slowly. "I'll destroy my slip for you. Would you like that? It's real silk".
Again she felt the confirmation in her right hand. She stood up, and kissed me, her glossy smooth lips touching mine, her tongue lightly caressing mine.
"You'll take me, too?", she asked, "I want you inside me, I want to feel you deep in me".
My knees nearly gave way. All this must mean I was dead. Nothing in real life happens like this.
She pulled my pants and underwear down, and off, as I stepped out of my shoes and socks. Standing up once again, she pressed against me. The slip soft against my cock. I pulled her closer to me, kissing her again, and began to undo the buttons on her blouse. It came off her shoulders, whispering to the floor. I caressed her breasts, thumbing the nipples, gently squeezing them..as she caressed and squeezed my cock..
"Do you want to rip my slip off? Shall I rip it"?, she whispered in my ear, as I kissed and nibbled her earlobe.."Tell me",
"No", I said, and looked over at the heavy iron she had rescued from its fall a few minutes earlier...
Julie followed my gaze. "Ah...with the iron, then", she said. She pulled me to the ironing table, and slipped the silken garment off, laying on the table.
She leaned back and once again sat up on the table, which was just about the perfect height.
"Turn on the iron", she said. I reached over and did so.
"Jesus, this does turn you on, doesn't it?", she asked, feeling my cock growing even harder in her hand.
"Yeah", I whispered horsely, "really does"....
She drew me in close to her now, guiding me toward her. She reached over next to her, and picking up a small pair of scissors, she cut away her panties, letting them fall away from her where she sat.
Her sweet puss was glistening with wetness, her lips swollen. She pulled me by my cock, guiding me in between her hot lips.
She wiggled forward a bit, allowing me to go deep into her. She gasped as I took her, putting her arms around my neck...
"I want you to burn my slip", she whispered in my ear, as she began to grind against me, sliding me in and out of her..."Go on, turn the iron up all the way...make it much, much to hot for the silk. I want you to burn it", she whispered to me as we fucked each other..
I still had my hand on the heavy iron, and turned the thermostat up all the way. I picked up the heavy instrument, and placed it down upon Julie's slip.
'I want to watch it together... I want to come as it burns", she said....
So we watched as the iron became hotter, and hotter, and hotter..
She rode my strokes with great sensuality, taking in the silky hot sensations inside her, feeling my cock grow, ready to let go..
I could feel her start to come, grasping at my cock, she began to shudder, a little groan issuing from her. The slip began to burn, smoke curling up from around the iron. I pumped my cock in her as she squeezed it with her the walls of her pussy. We exploded as one...into and onto each other, staring at her slip under the burning-hot iron..watching it burn....
Later that night, I walked toward the door, coming to Julie's spot.
"Well, good night", I said.
"Yes, good night", she answered. She smiled. And she smiled a lot more after that night. As did I.
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CCR01
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