This wonderful enlivener to the most dreaded of workdays is brought to you by Ang, the Sweltering Celt – thanks Ang!
“How many items?”
I glance over the clothes draped over my arm. “Six.”
“This way please.” She glances back at me over her shoulder as she leads me to a dressing room, smiles slyly and… was that a wink?
She holds the door open for me as I walk through. “Here, let me help you hang those up.” A quick glance around and she’s behind me through the door, swinging it shut behind her. She yanks the clothes out of my hands and tosses them onto a corner of the bench, then swings me around by the shoulders and slams me up against the door hard enough to make it rattle. Her grin is mischievous, yellow-hazel eyes gleaming from a face framed by glossy black hair.
I blink, and then her lips are on mine, crushing, tasting, biting, soothing and riling. My own clothes join the samples on the bench. Hers join mine. Skin joins skin. The smoothness of her palms, seeking fingers. My eyes go wide and I gasp as they find what they seek.
Before my gasp can be released, though, her other hand is over my mouth, smothering the moan about to escape, smothering the breath about to whoosh out. My eyes go wide as the pressure from her palm and fingers arrows right to my cunt.
“Shhhh,” she whispers. “I’m on the clock!”