Working in a department store as a salesclerk can be a boring job.  While I like meeting people, finding size 16-1/2 in a stack of shirts for a customer or ringing up returns doesn’t hold a lot of excitement.  But I was a freshman in college and needed the money.  So I worked the late shift at our suburban mall, in the Men’s department.  Women’s clothes were across the center aisle, and I was friendly with my counterpart there, Alice.

We were both working on a slow Monday evening when Alice got a call from her roommate that her dog was sick.  Could she come home early to take Cuddles to the vet?  Of course she had to.  I told her to go; I’d cover her area. 

I kept my eye on the Women’s section and would occasionally assist someone in ringing up an item.  It was getting late, 8:45, and we close at 9 pm.  My eyes were drawn to a beauty browsing through the lingerie section.  In her late twenties, tall, slim, with a lovely figure.  I was enjoying watching her holding up items in the mirror against her body.  Then she went to the cash register in the Women’s section, holding two garments, looking around for a salesperson. 

I went over.  “Hi.  The associate in this area had to leave early.  I’ll be happy to help you.”

She looked at me with a wry smile and said, “I’m not sure you’ll be able to help me the way I need help.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I said.

“I’m undecided on these two outfits.  It’s my boyfriend’s birthday, and I’m looking for a sexy outfit to surprise him.  I was hoping to get another woman’s opinion.”

I could see where this might lead, and I was all in. 

“Actually, I’m exactly who you need.  You really want a man’s opinion.  Who better to tell you what’s sexy?”

She looked at me in silence for several seconds, then a smile formed on her face. 

“I think you may be right.  I’ll take these two items to the fitting room.  Come by in a few minutes.”

I waited a short while then went into the women’s dressing area.  The store was emptying out by now, and there was no one else in this section.  Melissa, as I learned her name later, was waiting for me.  She modeled a frilly but demure black lace negligee that tied around the neck, extending to mid-thigh.  It hugged her breasts and her figure.  The panties and her well-formed buttocks peeked out from beneath.  It looked very good on her.  I told her so.

She went back into the changing booth.  The curtain on the booth hangs from a rod at the top and comes to within three feet of the bottom, so I could see her legs as she stepped out of one garment and into the next one.  She soon emerged with a white lace negligee that plunged severely in the front, revealing cleavage.  She spun around and the back was mostly open too.  But this garment was too big on her, and it hung awkwardly.  Her breasts were exposed to a side view.  

“I hope you’ll take this the right way, but I think you’re too exposed in this one,” I said. 

She looked in the mirror and said, “I agree.  But I like this style.  Perhaps I could try this one in a smaller size.”

I went out to the lingerie section and found the item.  There was also a knock-out garment on one of the mannequins, a baby doll outfit with sheer fabric that began below the pubic area with top straps that extended upward to cover just the breasts.  The panties were sheer too.  On an impulse, I grabbed one of them in her size.

I returned to the fitting room and Melissa took the white negligee.  She went back into the changing booth.  She closed the curtain, but this time it wasn’t completely sealed.  There was a gap of about twelve inches from the side.  I caught some glimpses of her bare skin as she removed the first negligee and slipped on the next.  I was becoming a little excited, but I swallowed hard and vowed to stay cool.

Melissa stepped out in the white negligee.  It clung so tightly to her body that her nipples were visibly pressed against the fabric.  The bottom didn’t even cover her pubic area; the panties were on display.  It was too small.  She looked at herself in the mirror, and then looked at me.  I was staring at her firm breasts, forgetting that I was supposed to be cool about this whole thing. 

“I don’t think this is going to work, do you?” she asked.

I swallowed and told her it was a little small but very sexy. 

“But if you like, I have another suggestion.  This is a very popular item.”  I held out the baby doll.  Melissa moved next to me to look at it.  Her presence within inches, dressed revealingly in a negligee that left little to the imagination, took my breath away. 

“OK, I’ll try it.”

She returned to the dressing room.  I snuck a look as she took off the first garment and put on the baby doll.  I knew that this one was completely sheer.  If she stepped out, she was as good as naked. 

She stepped out.  She was voluptuous in the sheer baby doll.  Her nipples and areola were visible, as was the mound of hair covering her vulva.  If the earlier garments left little to the imagination, this one left nothing.

“You’re gorgeous,” I said in a hushed voice.  I hadn’t meant to be so overt, so clearly expressing my interest.  But it just came out.

She smiled at me.  “Thank you.  I think my boyfriend will like this one, don’t you?”

“God, yes.”

She laughed.  “The test of good lingerie is how long it stays on the wearer.  How long do you think it will take before this one gets removed?

“Not long, I think.”

“Why don’t we find out?” she said.  And she moved to me.  She put her hand on the back of my neck.  The smell of her body, of her perfume, filled me. 

My fantasy had been that I would see a beautiful woman in a skimpy negligee.  I never expected more.  I was suddenly terrified.  While we were the only two in this area, this was essentially a public setting.  Night-time security would be by soon. 

“What are you doing?” I stammered.

She laughed.  “If you were a good salesman, you’d demonstrate just how sexy and alluring this garment is.  And how I’d be a fool not to buy it.”

“I need to close out my register,” was all I could think to say.  “It’s past 9 pm.”

(You don’t have to say it.  I know that was pretty pathetic of me.)

Melissa looked at me benevolently, accepting my timidity.  And that perhaps this wasn’t to be. 

“OK.  Then I should change back to my clothes.  Will you be able to ring this purchase up for me?”

I stammered, “Sure,” and Melissa moved back to the changing room.  But this time she did not draw the curtain.  With her back to me, she stripped off the lingerie.  I admired the beautiful curve of the spine and the bare back and buttocks.  Those firm, round beautiful butt cheeks.  She bent over and pulled on her panties.  Then her slacks.  She turned to the side and I watched as she filled the bra with her breasts and fastened it.  And then buttoned up her blouse.  

I stood transfixed.  A voyeur.  I had been offered more and couldn’t handle it.  I ached with the sexual tension.

I rang up her sale.  When I handed her the receipt, we locked eyes.  I wondered if I would ever see this beautiful woman again.  This woman who clearly had offered herself to me.  I felt as if I were sixteen years old, not nineteen. 

She rescued me.

“It’s dark and well after closing hour.  Would you be able to walk me to my car? I’m parked far from the entrance.”

“Of course,” I said.  And felt grateful.  I was such a child, trying to be a man.  This was a woman.  Offering me a second chance.  Could I handle it?

She lingered while I hurriedly closed and locked the register.  Then we walked out together to her car.

When we got to the car, she stood there. 

“You were a big help to me tonight.  Thank you,” she said.  She took out her car keys.

There are times in life when one comes to a crossroads – whether to take one path or the other.  To be bold or to be passive.

I took her face in both my hands and drew her near to me.  And kissed her.

She moved into me and we kissed deeply. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, with a laugh.   “Why don’t you follow me in your car to my apartment?  I don’t live far.”

When we got to her apartment, she poured drinks for us.  We talked a little, then she said she’d be back in a minute. 

She went into her bedroom.  When she returned, she was wearing the baby doll outfit. 

“We still haven’t confirmed that this was the best choice for me,” she said.  “What do you think?”

I went to her, like a beast released from its cage.  I embraced her and circled her body with my hands, down her back, along the buttocks, up the side to her breasts.  I brushed aside the top and cupped the breast in my mouth.  With my tongue, I circled the nipple, listening to her appreciative sounds.  We fell onto the couch and my hands travelled down her front to her groin.  I brushed the clitoris as I moved to rub the thighs, teasing her, deliberately not focusing on the center of her womanhood until she moaned for me to take her. 

She helped me as I pulled off my clothes.  She cupped my testicles in her hand and massaged them.  Then she stroked the erect penis, provoking it to its fullest state.  It didn’t need much persuading.  I entered her and thrust inside.  She soon climaxed, and then did I.

We lay together, spent.  The wonderful peace of sexual exhaustion. 

She spoke.  “You were right about the baby doll.  I think you’re a born salesman.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend will like it too.”

“I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to be around.  I think I’ve met someone else.”  And she smiled sweetly at me.