9. Jovie #2
“Look at this one. It isn’t the typical lingerie piece, but I adore it, and no one has bought it yet because it reminds them of bedtime, but that’s where the action happens, right?
Now,” she takes the nightgown off the hanger and lifts it in the air.
“It’s that deep green that will have your eyes look even redder.
It’s long. It’ll probably stop at your feet, but it has a small, delicate train.
There’s lace details along the sweetheart neckline and there are two slits.
” She flips the gown around and the slits travel halfway over the butt to show it off.
“And I think this is so unique. It’s a halter so it ties behind your neck, and there’s this long gold chain that lies flat against your spine, traveling all the way down to the bottom with a beautiful and real, emerald. ”
It's one of the most gorgeous pieces I’ve ever seen. I’m speechless. “I love it. I never imagined lingerie like this. I pictured cut out bras and hole in the bottom of my panties.”
She wiggles her brows. “We have that too.”
I toss my head back and laugh, the stress I put on myself fading.
“Perfect. Let’s go up to the fitting rooms and if you see anything else you like, snag it.”
I follow behind her and stop when I see a light pink silk robe. I’ve always wanted one. The sleeves are in a belle shape, nearly hanging down to the floor. From the thigh down, the silk changes to a tulle, becoming flowy and whimsical.
I have to have it.
Snagging my size, I follow Sally up the stairs, and she puts me in a room that’s nicer than my own apartment.
“I’ll be right outside waiting to see if you want anything else or any changes made.”
“Thank you so much. I appreciate all your help.”
“Anytime, Jovie.” That soft smile returns just as she eases the door shut.
There’s a floor to ceiling mirror in front of me and a mini chandelier hangs, providing a dim sexy light. To the left, is a small velvet bench and to the right are hooks on the wall followed by a small coffee table to place your folded clothes on.
My phone vibrates with a message. Every few seconds it goes off and when I’m naked besides my panties, I dig into my purse again to see numerous text messages from Santino.
Him: “Let me help.”
Him: “Let me take care of you.”
Him: “I want to.”
Him: “Where are you shopping? Maybe I can come by and can finally meet you.”
Him: “I’ll need to find out who you are soon. Whether you tell me or not.”
Him: “I can’t stop thinking about that video you sent me. I’ve played it a thousand times, Ms. Smith. Look what you do to me.”
I scroll, inhaling a sharp breath when I see the picture he sent.
Him: “Look how hard you make me. I’ve been like this all day. You better take care of it later. No matter how many times I stroke myself, it isn’t nearly as good as when we’re doing it together.”
His cock is beyond what I imagined it to be.
It’s long and thick, curling slightly to the right. The head is a deep red, the vein protruding on the side. There’s no way, if we were to ever have sex, would that fit inside me. The tip glistens with precome and his next message is a video.
A video that plays loudly because I forgot my volume was turned all the way up.
His moans echo through the fitting room.
“Oh my god. Stop! Stop it.” I hiss at the device, knowing it’s all my fault. I click the volume down until his groans are for my ears only. Heat pools between my legs and I have to flip my phone over to stop looking at him.
Him: “I’m getting very impatient waiting for you to talk to me. Do I need to track you down?”
Me: “No, I have a surprise for you if you’d be patient and wait, Sir. And you sending videos of yourself isn’t helping. It’s prolonging the process. All I want to do is watch you stroke your cock I so badly want between my lips, inside me, filling me to the point where I can’t breathe.”
I grab the shorter teddy first and slip it on, moving my hair out of the way so it doesn’t get caught in the zipper. The purple hem falls to my upper thigh, leaving my legs bare for my partner to see. The bottom of the teddy reminds me of a flower with how the material waves at the bottom.
The smile that overtakes my face is one I’ve never seen before.
I haven’t felt this good in so long. It’s been ages since I did anything for myself because of work and now I’m realizing that I can’t stop taking care of myself either.
Angling my phone and ignoring his message as it comes through, I take a picture, hiding my hair and my face. He’d know it was me just by seeing a glimpse of it.
I look fucking amazing in this photo. My breasts are pushed up and are supported, the low V cut of the neckline stops at my navel, revealing more skin.
It’s sexy. I’m sexy.
I want to buy five hundred of these!
I send the picture and undress, wanting to try on the emerald-green dress next.
My phone buzzes and it’s a message from Santino.
Him: “I need to know who you are so I can bend you over and fuck you like I deserve wearing that. Wearing only that. Tell me. Now.”
Me: “Good things come to those who wait.”
Him: “You’ll come. I’ll make sure of that.”
My mouth parts on a gasp. “Santino,” I whisper to myself.
The question is, will he still want me when the waiting game is over and the truth comes out?