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Old 09-16-2009
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Default Second Floor; Housewares, Lady's Lingerie...by Bella Lay

Second Floor; Housewares, Ladies Lingerie

Part 1 -

"How much longer can I take this shit?" I thought as I walked into yet another department store. "How much?"
I was looking for a birthday gift for my god daughter, a 19 year-old college student. The last time I saw Dana she was...what? Five? Six? Hell, I couldn't remember her name half the damn time. But I felt sorry for her dad; Steve and I grew up together and he and his wife Cindy, Dana's mother, were now divorcing after 22 years of wedded bliss. He had started calling a lot, looking for reassurances and comfort. I endured the conversations as best I could. I tried to be a good friend. But one afternoon, he began crying on the phone; sobbing that he didn't have enough money to get Dana something decent before 'she left him too...' Jesus Christ, I thought. I was a sucker for a crying dude.
Besides, he was under the impression I had sent her cards for her birthdays and holidays all these years. Where he got that impression from I don't know; all I knew was it was wrong. I hadn't sent the kid anything, ever. But what the hell, right? Steve had saved my sorry ass enough times in the past. What goes around, comes around, I guess.
I kept moving, past the cosmetics counter, past the ladies shoes and through the women's clothes; racks filled with sour faced little old ladies swishing through the hangers with pissed off old men holding purses standing behind them. I stopped in the center of the store, by the escalators, and stood looking at the store directory.
"What do kids want for birthdays nowadays?" I muttered under my breath. I honestly didn't know. I'm 45 and single. I looked up the humming, moving stairs. Canned lights shone down; clear shelves lined with towels stood on one side of the landing above. Plates and bowls were stacked on identical shelves on the opposite side. I smiled.
"Shit, that's it! 'Housewares' or whatever they call it" I thought. "Every college kid needs that stuff."
I raced up the escalator and stepped off at the top, excusing myself past the mom and stroller that had slipped on in front of me. I stared in bewilderment at the array of towels and linens on one side; a confusing myriad of colors and textures. I turned away. Plates would be easier.
But across the store, something caught my eye.
Lingerie.
Panties.
Bras.
Corsets.
Pantyhose.
I confess. I'm a sucker for lingerie. I love looking at it; I love women wearing it, and I love to just touch it. Hell, I've even been known to slip on a pair of panties and pantyhose myself. Well, when no one else was around, of course.
Once, I stole a pair of panties from Cindy when she and Steve were visiting, a year or so before Dana was born. Cindy was a hottie; full and big natural breasts and legs up to her freakin' neck. Her eyes were a piercing green and when she walked, her ass. My god, her ass. I must have jerked off into her panties a hundred times. Finally, I tossed them. But damn, they felt good.
I love lingerie. I love lingerie stores, or lingerie departments in stores. I especially love it when there's a gorgeous girl working the floor. And today there was; a tall and sexy good looking brunette. "Damn man, finally got me a hot chick" I thought, "not some damn wrinkled fat granny like it usually is."
I strolled into the department and drifted among the rows of racks holding the soft and silky panties and bras, letting the sensuous fabrics brush against my arms and hands and fingertips. The girl at the counter glanced up at me and smiled. "Hello sir" she called. Are you looking for anything specific? A gift for your wife?" Her voice was sexy and raspy; deeper than I expected, yet feminine. Very feminine.
"No, not really" I said smiling back. "Something for my god daughter, actually."
I froze in my tracks, aware of what I had just said.
The girl looked startled.
"No..." I stammered. "Not for her here, just in general." I felt my skin flushing. "That sounded horrible, didn't it?"
I was close enough now to see the young ladies name tag. Paula.
"I promise I'm not a pervert, Paula."
Fuck. Quit while you're ahead for once.
Paula laughed and smiled. "Oh no sir, of course not." She lowered her gaze. "There are lots of men who like to come in and..." she paused. "Look."
She finished folding the teddy she had been working with on the counter top and pushed it aside.
"I've never had a gentleman tell me he's shopping in my department for their 'god daughter' though. That's a first."
I smiled. At least she thinks I'm a 'gentleman'.
"I suppose it would be, or 'hope' it would be, right?" Paula gazed at me for a moment, and reached for a pile of panties on one side of the counter. She lifted a pair of white lacey boy shorts and started to fold.
"Well" she said, "I'll be right here if you need anything, or want me to show you something."
I looked her up and down once more. She was dressed in a white linen skirt with open toed red pumps; she wore neutral colored pantyhose or stockings, her supple tan legs beautiful and long. She was tall, a full head taller than me. She must have been 5'8"; maybe 5'9". She wore a red tank top with a red bra underneath. The top would gap as she folded the panties on the counter, allowing me a peek of the cups. Her breasts were small, no larger than a B cup I was certain. Lovely. Her hair was a thick mane of brown silkiness, that would fall in cascades on her shoulders and at times, over her face, yet her brilliant blue eyes would sparkle through. Her make-up was subtle yet perfect; her lipstick a muted and soft red. I guessed she was in her late 20's; maybe her early 30's.
She smiled once again.
Fuck yeah I want to her to show me something.
"Great" I said. "Thanks."
I turned to resume my stroll among the panties; soft and satiny panties. Lacey, sheer sorts of things were some of my favorites. They were all around me. I glanced back at Paula. "I should get over here to visit here more often" I thought.
There was a slight tug on my left hip, and a rush of fabric was suddenly against my back. The rack of panties to my left fell to the floor with a metallic clang.
A pair of neon pink thongs with the words "Love me Tender" silk screened on the front hung from cell phone holster; their hanger still clinging to one thin strap.
Paula was at my side in an instant. "Are you ok?" she asked, touching my arm with her hand. Her fingers were long and elegant, with bright red polish on the nails; her touch soft and reassuring.
"Yeah" I said blushing, I'm fine." I looked at the rack of underwear, now splayed across the floor in front of me. In front of me and Paula.
"What happened?" she asked.
I held up the neon pink "Love me Tender" panties, the hanger still dangling.
"These caught on my cell phone case when I walked past" I said. "Sorry. I'll pick these up."
Paula laughed and took the panties from my fingers.
"No, don't worry about it. I'll take care of them. I just started here two days ago; this'll be a good way to get familiar with the stock."
She squatted down, her skirt billowing slightly. I dropped down to help.
I looked at her across the fallen rack. She was a lady, one knee on the floor, her skirt held close around her with a fist clutching panties while she pick up others with her free hand.
"So you're new here?" I asked.
"Yes" she smiled, "Just off the train you could say. I moved up from the tiny little town where I grew up."
"And what town would that be?" I asked.
She leaned over to one side, reaching for a cluster of hangers and panties. He skirt fell open enough for me to see her long and lean pantyhose encased thighs, nearly all the way to her crotch. Nearly.
"You've never heard of it, I'm sure. It's a tiny place. 'Sylvania."
She was right, I'd never heard of it.
"Oh yeah, I know the town. Near...not too far from..."
She laughed. "I knew you wouldn't know it. Nobody ever does. It's way south. Not close to anything. That's why I came here."
She reached out close to my knee and picked up two pairs of blue lacy thongs. The neck of her shirt fell open, allowing a full view of her red bra. I also noticed deep tan lines from her bathing suit top.
"How long have you been in town?" I asked.
She shrugged, and then laughed. "Week or two. Long enough to be getting bored."
We stood up, me bringing the rack.
"Sorry" I said again. "Honest accident, I promise."
She lowered her gaze and smiled.
"Oh, I know. Don't keep apologizing. It's alright."
She turned to start hanging the panties on the now upright rack.
"Besides, I enjoyed chatting with you...." She looked at me inquisitively.
"Oh...shit. I'm sorry. Greg. Greg Eliot."
She reached out her hand and I extended mine.
"I'm pleased to meet you Greg Eliot. I'm Paula; Paula Bridges."
I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it softly; she smiled broadly.
"The pleasure's all mine" I said.
"Mmm...a charmer, I see."
I held her hand tightly for another moment, then released it.
"Look" I began, "I feel I've wrecked your day. Can I buy you dinner tonight? It's the least I could do for being such a pain when there's so much you have to do." I nodded toward the pile of panties on the counter.
She looked startled for a moment. I suddenly worried I had been too forward.
Her face softened and she smiled again.
"Yes, I'd like that. I haven't met anyone here and it has been boring, so yes. Thank you. That would be very nice. I leave the store at seven."
"Great" I said. "Where should I call for you?"
"Oh...here, if you wouldn't mind. My apartments a mess; boxes everywhere and stuff. Is that alright?"
"Sure" I said. "I'll meet you back here at seven."
An old lady walked up to the counter with a rainbow of granny panties.
I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Sexy!"
She laughed and playfully swatted my shoulder.
"See you tonight Greg. I'm looking forward to it" Paula said and moved to the counter.
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