The shirt

He hadn’t seen it coming as the shopping bag slammed into his knee. Damn it hurt, what the hell was in that bag, fucking bowling balls? It was crazy, people everywhere all looking for that bargain. Talk about a crush, suddenly coming to the sales to buy the shirt didn’t seem like such a good idea, but he’d made it this far, no point bailing out now.

It was a split second, in the corner of his eye that he caught sight of the pretty dress, that tiny electric charge as she passed. Merry fucking Christmas, a small upside to this shopping expedition. He looked back and she was gone.

Did she feel it or imagine it, the briefest glance as they passed? And the scent, something touched all her senses and for a moment she felt the raw sensation of being stalked in the wild.

Shopping with the hoards, mindless boredom as he looked through the shirts. The Vegas collection, who the hell comes up with these names, wear this shirt and you’ll be transported to Vegas.. not fucking likely. Still nice shirt, worth a try. Was that her again, the girl in the pretty dress? She'd definitely looked at him. He felt the charge, raw, sexual, was he the hunter or the hunted, or more likely his imagination was getting the better of him, still….

She was feeling so damn horny, or probably just in need of some stress release after days of cooking, shopping, the usual Christmas dramas. Holiday my arse she thought, more like a co-ordinated assault on your sanity. There he was again, business shirts... nice. She watched him from a distance, thinking she wouldn’t mind a piece of that.

He was heading to the change rooms to try some shirts on, she pretended not to notice. He pushed the cubicle door closed behind him, took off his T-shirt and threw it on the floor. A quick check in the mirror, not too bad although time to maybe slow down on the post-Christmas cheer.

She saw him walk down the aisle to the last cubicle, he left the door slightly ajar, careless or deliberate? A crazy thought popped into her head, quickly followed by a reality check… you can’t do that. She could pretend it’s an accident, WTF Carpe diem, she walked down, opened the door and made to walk in as if she didn’t know he was there.

Putting on the new shirt and buttoning it up, she caught him by surprise as she walked in and closed the door behind her. There was an awkward pause as their eyes met… The moment of truth she thought, and then the slightest hint of a smile. Fuck it, just do this. She stepped forward still looking into his eyes and began unbuttoning his shirt. She took a moment to run her fingers along his chest, she could see the goose bumps and a slight shiver, nice.

She stopped with her hand on his jeans, staring into his eyes. No fucking way, this is not happening, he thought, followed almost instantly by an even stronger thought, damn don’t stop there. Her face was just inches from his as she pulled down his zip and reached inside and stroked his cock. They were still looking at each other as he let his hand slide up her dress and into her panties, damn she’s hot.

Suddenly she dropped to her knees watching a look of intense pleasure in his eyes as she took his cock first in her hand, stroking, teasing... and then into her mouth. Looking in the mirror he could see her kneeling in front of him, fuck he was so damn hard he was almost ready to explode.

He lifted her up and pushed her against the wall letting his hands wander, she stared into his eyes as his fingers touched her clit and worked her pussy while she continued to stroke his cock. He dropped to his knees, lifting up her dress, moving her panties and going to work, licking, sucking, stroking. It was her turn to be the voyeur watching in the mirror, seeing his strong physique crouched in front of her, she could feel herself going weak at her knees, don’t stop now…

Suddenly he stood up again, now he was leaning into her, his breath on her neck. She could feel her juices flowing as his fingers entered her wet pussy working her slowly but surely to a frenzy while she expertly worked his cock. He had to put his hand over her mouth to catch her scream as she exploded, and then watching her face in ecstasy he found himself exploding all over her hand.

In the mirror she could see the reflection of him leaning into her. They were both breathing heavily, fuck, had anyone heard them? He moved away, collapsing onto a bench, looking up they smiled at each other. She turned to the mirror to straighten her dress, and then reached down and used his discarded T-shirt to clean up the mess.

Throwing the T-shirt down she opened the door to leave, stopping for a moment to smile at him, ‘Looks like you’ll be buying a new shirt,’ and then she turned and walked away. He was numb with disbelief… Vegas… fuck yeah… he couldn’t help but laugh as he thought, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Best fucking shirt ever.