It was 4.20 and the store was all but empty. Monday evenings were quiet at this time of year. Summer hadn't really arrived and late fall was hardly the time to splash out on new lingerie. Well not in this isolated section of the mid-west.

I sat swiveling on the high chair behind the counter. My black shoes were somewhat scuffed. I'd need to clean them before tomorrow’s shift. My brown work skirt was riding up my legs, just briefly exposing the white panties I had worn for two days straight. Pretty rank really.

My phone buzzed again. James wanted Pizza tonight, not sushi. “By the way, Mom's at Jane's tonight we can watch Twilight,” he said.

“Cool,” I replied, as a tall blonde lady in a black and white dress smiled and found her way to my department racks. I had only been in lingerie for three weeks, though having spent six months in sports and swimwear I was enjoying it. There was much more range in intimates, and at least women (or men for that matter) became excited when shopping for their favorite underwear.

At sixteen, being my first year out of school, I was luckier than most James' Mom had reminded me. “I was lucky to have a job,” she had said.

The bell rang and I met the tall blond lady in between the change room and our overseas collection. She was trawling through the Italian “La Perla” range, where the darker colors she said weren’t as suited to her color. "I'm more of a pink and red girl," she laughed, as the UK 'Gossard' range of intimates met her fingertips.

“Have you ever heard of the Triumph range?” I suggested. “They have a new 'Amourette Collection' that has some pretty pink and red pieces,” I said.

“Let’s have a look,” she replied, smiling as we made our way toward the far right hand corner of the store. Her eyes lit up. “Stunning,” she said, she quickly pulling two bras, both pink and red from the rack. “I'm hopeless. I'm all out of whack. Up top I'm a 34C and downstairs I'm practically a small to medium,” she added, confused as to where she could find the right sized panties.

“If you take the bras into the change room I shall find the matching panties and bring them over to you, if that’s okay,” I suggested, keen to make a sale.

Then as I spoke she quickly grabbed a third bra, more of a crimson color from the clothes hanger, and clutching onto the three bras proceeded toward the change room.

“I like to mix and match,” she said, arching her long neck back in my direction as I turned, catching a glimpse of her taut ankles, white sandals and pink toenail polish, as she disappeared around the end of aisle seven. Within two minutes I had located the matching Triumph panties. Well the matching colors as it were. The panties the lady had requested were at least two sizes smaller than the bra size she had collected from my racks.

Taking time to gently draw back the change room curtain, I slid the panties onto the change room lounge seat. I could see her turning toward me. As she strapped the pink bra up from bend her back, then began pulling it up higher above her breasts, her head lowered to perfect bra placement. Her breasts were large, though firm and her nipples a beautiful rich dark pink, pointing in large circles toward my clumsy stance.

“There just on the couch seat,” I said, in a shy voice, as I drew the curtain to the change room closed, before sitting behind the change room counter. Within seconds she appeared. She was wearing a pink multistrand necklace and matching wristlet. A Boho Chic look that I hadn’t noticed before.

'Kind of cool,' I thought, for a middle aged Mom. 'That is if she was a Mom,' I mused.

Walking slowly toward me, with her white sandals still on, I noticed she had chosen the pink bra and the red panties. 'They look gorgeous on her,' I thought to myself. Simply stunning. The panties I had chosen were perfect. They clung to her thighs, though not tightly enough to place pressure upon her crotch, whilst her bum cheeks were covered, and in no way protruding from the pretty red briefs.

She threw her head forward, as her long blond hair whisked its way down over her taut torso toward the beautiful red briefs.

Then lifting her head back up and smiling, “how do I look?” She asked.

“You look wonderful,” I said with an air of unexpected confidence, “absolutely wonderful.” 

“How does the size appear?” She questioned, moving closer toward me; close enough for me to take in the feint scent of 'Issay Mayake' that lingered from her presence.

“The 34C is a brilliant fit, well you already knew that,” I answered, whipping up a head of steam (I was on a roll), “and the first thing I noticed as you alighted from the change room was how well the 'Triumph' panties fitted you. I must say I was a bit nervous, having chosen them myself, but they look great,” I said.

“Why thank you,” she said, as she came in close to me. “You have such eloquent language,” she said, “for a small town girl. And such beautiful black hair,” she said softly, gently brushing a length of my hair away from my cheekbone.

“Why thank you,” I replied, blushing. “No one has ever said that to me before.” 

Then leaning forward and whispering in my ear, “well now someone has,” she said, before turning to walk back into the change room, her long slender legs reaching all the way to the new red panties, as they clung so beautifully to her tight firm hips.

I felt a tingle whistle slowly down through my own torso, in between my ribs, beneath my tender young breasts. A soft release, from somewhere down below, as the feint scent of her 'Issay Mayake' perfume lingered in the air around me, lighting up every orifice of my young body, causing me to feel faint myself. Weak at the knees I sat back at the counter, before drawing in a deep breath and returning to sit back behind the change room counter.

Within what seemed like seconds her American Express card had filtered through my card machine, and with her bright red 'Triumph' lingerie bag she quickly made her way toward the store exit.

“I'll have to let you out,” I said, “as the store is closing.”

“Thank you so much,” she said turning again toward me once more. “What is your name gorgeous girl?” she inquired.

“My name is Jessie,” I said, with a broad smile.

“Well nice to meet you Jessie, I'm a Jessie too, but most of my friends call me Jessica. I might see you again, I've just bought a small ranch and am moving in this weekend. I'm not much of a country girl, I might need some tips from a pretty country girl,” she said, as she approached the exit doors.

“I hope you enjoy the Amorette Collection,” I yelled as she walked briskly away down the hallway. “It looks beautiful on you,” I said. It was too late. She had gone.

Locking up the store I went up into the office to flick on the external security cameras. My vision caught the change room camera frame. It was on all day to prevent theft from within the stores change room. I thought for a split second. 'I shouldn't do this.' Then, picking up the remote, I rewound the change room tape. Sitting now in the dark, my eyes wandered through the proceeding twenty minutes of change room vision. There was Jessica, pulling her dress from above her shoulders, undoing her bra strap, then turning toward the camera, before bending over to remove her panties toward her ankles, exposing the most breathtaking sight I had ever seen in all of my short sixteen years. The most beautiful pink pussy. So warm, so smooth, so pink.

Within moments my own fingers had found their way inside my own dirty white panties, penetrating within the folds of my tender young skin, rubbing at the wetness that dripped from my snatch. Fingering now furiously, I kicked the door latch and with the lights now off I focused further in. Nervous anxious, excited, buried within my sin.