Saturday

That morning the doorbell to her condo woke her at ten am. "Who the hell is at my door on a Saturday,” she moaned and rolled over in bed. Giselle had come out of a dream where she had to get ready for work and there were no clothes in her closet or anywhere in her apartment. Her puffy pudenda still tingled from meeting with her mysterious lover in the supply room. If nothing else came from the last week of Tom's erotic and provocative tasks, she was getting her pussy pleasured on a very regular basis. She was also running out of thong panties to mail off to whoever was the voice of Tom.

Oh fuck. Is he my master now? she mused abstractly. The thought troubled her; she was doing everything that he wanted, performing a daily live-action nude porno flick in the office building. It's very exciting and very disconcerting. He was also now giving back what she wanted. Mind-blowing sex. She got up from bed and went out to the living room, her thoughts distracting her from the fact that she was completely nude.

“It’s ten o’clock,” she called as she approached the door. “What the hell do you want?” She looked through the peeper, tilted her head questioningly and then turned the knob.

The guy from the driver service held out a tray with a bag and a go-cup of something steamy. There was a small note card on the tray. She took the tray and regarded the delivery guy. Since she was nude, she obviously had no money on her. The guy smiled and shook his head, then pulled out his cell phone and snapped a quick pic.

“Uh, there’re more packages on your mat,” the guy spluttered. “I could bring them in for you.”

“All right, thank you. Put them there on the floor.”

“You bet.”

This time Giselle went to get her purse, but the dude waved her off and cheerfully carried all the deliveries into her condo. After everything was set down in front of the couch, she said to him, “So you want some more pictures?”

The guy nodded yes, and she walked around the room, bending over, posing full frontally, then finally over to the couch, flashing spreadies of her fine naked nookie. After a few minutes of horny pleasure, the delivery driver murmured a shy "Thank you," and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Giselle set the tray down on her coffee table and grabbed the note. It came open easily and she sat down on the couch to read it. Giselle. Loved everything about the other night at Shady's! I never could have imagined being with you that way. Love you. Call me! Louie. 404-555-1785

That’s really sweet, she thought. The bag yielded a pecan sticky bun, her favorite; the coffee needed creamer and sugar from her kitchen. After enjoying a bite of the pastry and some coffee, she turned to the deliveries on the floor. One was quite plainly a shoebox, then there were two more, one a plastic mailer not much larger than an envelope. Per the daily e-mail from Tom, Giselle could open the larger package and the shoe box. The mailer was to be opened after she started on her extra credit task later that night.

The box yielded shoes as she expected; they were platform heels, about five inches high with two straps to hold them on her foot. She put them on immediately with a pair of lace-trimmed anklets to get used to walking in them. The next package held a very thoughtful surprise. Tom had returned the skirt and blouse she’d left in her office when she walked out bottomless on Monday. They had been dry cleaned and a note was included: Giselle, there is an excellent tailor in your neighborhood. You should take this skirt and any others you want to be altered to him. They are Greek, but the son and his wife speak English. The Friendly Tailor in Plato Plaza. Open on Saturdays. 

She had two other suits and two shirt-waisted dresses she wore occasionally that she wanted to alter. The address for the tailor was just three blocks away, she could just walk over to the shop. It was a Saturday, so she could dress as she liked, though picking an outfit for today was proving difficult. She could certainly be as naked as Tom wanted her at work, but the choices in her closet were very limited.

Going through her lingerie for sheer garments, she sorted out her remaining underwear, packing up anything that was not sexy in a shoebox. She piled her full cup and sports bras on top of that. The drawer was now almost empty: two half cups and a see-through bra remained, along with just four panties and only one pink string thong. Hopefully, the small mailer package held lingerie otherwise starting Tuesday, she would be going commando under her short skirts and dresses at work. For today, she picked a totally sheer nude-toned bikini brief, so she still looked panty free.

Giselle packed up the suit skirts and one of the shirtwaist dresses. Deciding to go braless she slipped on the other of the two dresses then wondered if she was forgetting something. Determined not to let it bother her whatever it was, she grabbed a big floppy hat, sunglasses, and her bags and left her condo. As she strode the streets in the strappy stripper heels flashing her long lovely legs and enjoying the wolf whistles and catcalls, her thoughts drifted back to her sexy supply room liaison Friday afternoon.

******************** 

Giselle lay chained and blindfolded on the bed in the supply room, her mystery lover clenched between her thighs with his cock buried deep in her snatch, “Three. Oh, fuck yes.” She'd been kept almost continuously aroused the past four days and she had it coming. It was wonderful, exhausting, erotic, and amazing, it was her payback for being a good little sex toy.

Ted, posing as the mystery lover, lay atop this wondrous brunette goddess who had met him here for sex. His pace quickened, he needed her to orgasm over and over again. This was her reward for the last week of sexual tension and frustration. This was his reward as well as his private audition with her, after a week of testing her for the role of Executive Sweet Siren. He had done well, today she had shown him she was totally in.

His sheathed shaft was still buried deep inside her dripping wet snatch. She had him locked up in her legs, needed his lance deep in her cock pocket. They were in total synch now, even breathing together as they fucked each other into ecstasy.

“Oh, oh, oh, Tom. Ooh,” she moaned over and again; her body was shaking with every thrust of his fat big-boy into her hot center. “Oh, fuck four, yes, yes. Oh, oh yes. Five!” Her head bobbed forward against his chest, her upper body spasmed with the pleasure erupting from her loins. “Oh, keep going, lover. Keep fucking that pussy. Damn, I love how you fuck me.”

He slid back away, pulled out of her depths, and focused on the moist open lips of her slick shaven slit. With just the tip, he started to work magic between her folds, drawing fresh bolts of erotic electricity out of her overheated hot box. “Oh, that’s good. Yes, you fuck me good. Oh. Yes. That’s six. Ooh.”

Her head dropped to one side; her breathing slowed as she absorbed all his burning sensual being. He was hot and hard and slow and sexy; he had style. He made love to her like no other man she’d ever fucked.

He slid his sausage still hard and throbbing with heat along her sweet sensitive lower love canal, brought the knob down to penetrate her again. She let him slide back in, he thrust softly and slowly filled her with his prick. Her breathing slowed, and he started to cover her mouth with kisses as he drove into her pussy. Push and pull, up and back, out and in, each time a tad deeper, then finally hitting her g-spot.

He was waking up her pussy for numbers seven, eight, and who knew? Giselle struggled to breathe as he smothered her mouth with his, closing it fully for seconds, a half minute. Her lungs and brain starved for oxygen, she tried to breathe thru her nose only to have him move his hand to pinch it closed. Her heart started to race, then she saw stars; his dick pounded away deep in her tortured vajajay shooting pleasure comets that blazed up in her body. 

She was helpless to push him off her mouth, even though he was stealing the very breath from her. Her chest began to heave from side to side as pure erotic pleasure coursed up, rising into her. She was coming and blood was rushing through her veins exciting every fiber of her being.

Oh, Tom, let me oh. Come, she screamed silenced by his smoldering kisses. Then he pulled his lips off her mouth. "Ah, ah, ah. Aah. Ooh." She gasped for breath, and it hit her. It came from deep in her center where he stroked every part of her being. She started convulsing up and back, squeezed him tighter with her thighs, willed him to fill her up.

Her body writhed beneath him as he pistoned his pecker into Giselle’s scorching hot honey hole. Ted could feel her orgasm building as her chest heaved, clawing for a breath of air. He knew she was close to the edge then he pulled away from her mouth and she erupted underneath him. Her pussy clenched on his pulsing python; he started to blow. His cock lurched inside her, he was coming. "Oh, god Giselle," he said filling the condom with a huge flow of hot satisfaction and sexual release.

He slid back off her and the rubber slipped off as he pulled his still spouting phallus out of her savaged snatch. He caught and held her, and she fell on his shoulder gasping and orgasming, moaning loudly.

“Oh fuck, Tom. Seven,” Giselle said then fainted away.

While she napped, he uncuffed her then pulled the dress off her. He argued with himself about taking the panty also and wickedly thought of her walking back to her office wearing just the bra. Hmm. Ted let the devil in him win and he picked up and pocketed her Friday thong panty. He thought he heard her wake as he opened the door and left.

Let her worry about getting another demerit.

*********************

As she approached the plaza, she mused on her escape from the supply room and naked sprint up the stairs to her office on legs wobbly from the Friday afternoon fuck fest. She'd been drowsy and half-aware of him removing her dress but had thought it a dream. The reality had been a jolt. As she had predicted, Tom had her going around nude in the building at week's end. Without a panty to send him the second day in a row, he would have her topless in the office again, even after doing tonight's extra credit.

Friendly Tailors was in the middle of a row of stores at the trendy new Plato Plaza. Giselle attracted more than a few glances, stares, and leers as she came to the end of her sexy stroll. She stepped out of the heat of summer into the chill space of the tailor shoppe, her nipples hardened under the thin cotton shirt dress. An older bearded man in a vest and tie stood behind a counter; he called to his son in Greek, ‘Milos the woman is here. The one Mr. Havlicek electro mailed me about.’  

From the alcove entry, a tall dark man came into the room; Milos answered in Greek, ‘It is called e-mail father. The gods! She is a beautiful woman.’

The father said in their tongue, ‘You will measure the skirts for this woman. Then do what you want with her.  She is an American slut.’

Milos, still in native Greek, ‘Father, don’t be so crude. You’re being mean. Leave me with her, you old pervert.’ The old man went out the way the son had come in.

“Hello, I’m Milos.  My father apologizes and asks if you would mind if I took the measurements for the alterations. You could follow me to the dressing room over here, there is a three-way mirror and a pedestal we will use.” He took the bag of Giselle's clothes and set it down.

They walked over to the mirrors, "The shirt-waist dress will require the most work. Step over here please." He indicated a raised part of the floor, more a stage than a pedestal, there was even a large heavy curtain on the side opposite the dressing rooms. 

“If that’s what you want.” she looked to where he pointed, walked over to the podium, and stepped up. Giselle turned all the way around for his appraisal and was delighted to find he had a bulge already growing in his pants. She had a fleeting memory of doing this for Hannah and Heather and she shivered a bit. Milos moved over a small bench and a large kit of sewing paraphernalia. 

“Are you chilled?” Milos asked. “Here let me warm you a bit.”  His hands went into action on her lower calves, up and back down caressing her silky skin. 

Giselle thrilled immediately at his touch. He was young, dark and handsome, and quite obviously a horny Don Juan. “Shouldn’t you be measuring up here, to raise the hem? I mean if you’re going to have your hands somewhere on my body, right?” 

“Certainly, tell me what you want for the length.”

“You need to measure three inches above the stocking top.” She’d worn an elastic garter to mark where to measure from to get the right skirt length.

“The lady knows what she wants.” Milos took his tape, held it against the inside of her thigh, and measured three inches. His hand brushed against her panty-covered lower lips. The brunette was clearly stimulated, she thrilled at his touch; he felt another erotic shiver rush through her body. His soft warm breath kissed the naked skin of her legs. The touch of his strong calloused hand as it roamed up her inner thigh was igniting every nerve in her lower body.  His finger pressed at the sheer fabric over her luscious labia; he drew a lazy line upward along her cleft. 

"That's very nice," Giselle panted as another bolt of erotic lightning rippled through her kitty kat. "About perfect."

“If the dress is to be so short, the side cutout detail will need altering. I think it needs to be about here,” He pulled the side of the dress almost to her waist and softly laid the scissors high on her naked thigh. Abruptly, he clipped right through the side of her sheer panty. “Oh, my. I’m sorry I meant to show where the cutout would be!”

The dainty delicate hung slightly for a moment then it started to slip and finally fell down her leg to her knee. The brunette lifted her foot and kicked it off onto the floor.  “Oops!” Giselle said.

“For sure, oops darling. Milos, who is the pretty American?”

Giselle was startled at the sudden interruption. A woman had just walked in on them in that intimate moment.

“A client. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“Absolutely stunning. I am Adriana, Milos's wife,” a very distracting curvy blonde in a form-fitting uniform dress strode over to where Giselle posed on the podium. “Husband, again I see you have been careless with the scissors. Who are you pretty American lady?” she asked as she picked up the cut in half panty.

“I’m Giselle, a friend recommended Milos’s services,” Giselle admitted.

“Charming. I am going to take over the measurements, take off your dress and hand it to Milos," Adriana told Giselle. "Bring me the kit and my chair," she said to her husband in Greek.

Giselle pulled the shirt dress off, now naked on the pedestal, her panties in blonde Adriana's hands. She gave herself over to the moment, let herself be controlled because of her desire for this beautiful couple. What was happening to her? "I didn't bring a blouse to wear with the skirts," Giselle admitted, suddenly troubled with the feeling she had forgotten something else.

"This is what she wore into the store. She has no clothes except those she is leaving for altering," Milos informed his wife.

"She is a dirty slut Milos my love; take all her clothes to the sewing room and bring back the suit skirt only," Adriana replied in their language. "Maybe find her a small shirt from the sports uniforms."

"What is this?” the tailor’s wife asked. She pointed to the garter on Giselle's thigh.

“My skirts have to be three inches above that,” Giselle answered. "And I need you to remove the buttons, all except the two at the waist."

Adriana explained, "If we remove all the buttons from the dress, it is cheaper. You keep it closed with the belt. This is for dancing in the clubs, cocktail parties?" Milos had returned and handed a child's baseball jersey to her. She passed the button-front shirt over to the naked brunette in the window.

"No, it's all for work." Giselle took the small shirt and slipped her arms into it. Her perky boobs burst from the tiny top; she pulled it as far as it would go but could not button it.

"What kind of work do you do? Sell your gorgeous slutty body on the corner?" the woman said in Greek and laughed. Then she took her hand and stroked up from the garter. The gorgeous brunette slut glowed; she was naked, wet, and ready to be played with. "I think we need some more light on this. Milos open the curtains," she said and delicately eased her fingers inside Giselle's hot pussy.

The handsome Greek god pulled on a cord and Giselle finally saw the window she’d been standing in front of. She was overawed, they had distracted her and then exposed her to the crowded street outside the shop.

"Oh, wow. How did you know?" Giselle gushed, thrilled by the hand working in her pussy and overwhelmed by the rapturous attention of the horny voyeurs. A surge of electric sex blew through her, jolting every nerve in her body. Everyone was looking at her nude display in the shop and she was loving every minute of it. "Oh yes. Ooh, oh god."

"Dirty American slut, you are drawing quite a crowd. Do you see them?" Adriana asked her softly.

"Yes, oh god yes." She was drawn by their gaze and naked before them. Her mind blew into little sexy pieces reflected in their eyes. Heads were turning in her direction; two guys had stopped to watch. There's always someone watching, Giselle thought, and her body convulsed as she gave over to the abrupt orgasm that ripped through her. "Oh, yes."

"Blow them a kiss dirty slut."

Expectations & Requirements: Give people time to notice/react to your nude display. Be slow to realize your exposure and slow covering yourself up.  If there is no need to cover up, then don’t.

She quivered in the gaze of the men and women; their bodies pressed against the glass. I'm answering to Dirty Slut. Oh fuck, she thought. Then she put her hand to her mouth, kissed it, and blew it to the crowd cheering outside the shop window.

Adriana spoke to her husband in Greek, Milos she is conditioned. What should we do with her? She pulled her fingers out of the brunette's flushed puffy pillow, drawing a strand of pussy juice with it.

Milos answered in their language, I think we should play with this toy. "Dirty slut, you like how they look at you?" he said to Giselle. "You are excited? Step closer to the window and show them your sweet pussy."

Mindless of anything on earth except the sensual lightning running wild through her body, Giselle cautiously moved closer to the window and put her hand down to her cleft. With her fingers, she spread her neatly shaven pussy open to show the crowd. She could feel her pussy juices flowing in little trails down her legs.

Then it was Adriana's turn to turn it up a notch. "Dirty slut, turn around and bend over. Tell me you love this, Giselle."

"This is such a huge turn-on, Adriana I love this," Giselle turned around and bent over, remembering her Expectations. Four more people crowded the shop window; another small group turned to look at her. Wearing only the tiny baseball jersey, the lacy anklets, and stripper heels, she took her hand and let it drift over her bum cheeks until she touched her cooter. Looking back at the window behind her she took a breath then plunged her finger between her labia. "Ooh. Oh."

"You see the young man?" Adriana asked. "See how his hand is buried deep in his pants. Pump your fist, make like you would stroke his cock for him."

With her other hand, Giselle made a motion like jacking off a penis. The young guy abruptly pulled his pecker from his pants and started to stroke it.

"See how excited you make him? He cannot help himself; he wants your pussy. He has a nice cock, yes?" Adriana was driving Giselle off a cliff, "You want to feel that cock? In your pussy? Your mouth?"

Giselle's body burned with desire; her legs wobbled as erotic tremors shivered her loins. The world outside the window looked in at her naked body bent over with her fingers stroking herself. The last week of her life had been a circus of getting into one erotic situation after another all of them leading to getting her pussy pleasured.

"He has a nice cock. I want to feel that cock," Giselle admitted to the sexy couple holding her puppet strings.

"Milos, go get the red-haired guy with his cock out," Adriana directed him.

Milos went over to the door and outside. From her position still bent over in the window, Giselle watched him talk to the guy then the two of them left the window and came inside. The young man looked to be about nineteen and very nervous. He had stopped jacking himself though his cock was still turgid and to Giselle's eyes very big.

"What is your name college boy?" Adriana whistled. "He has a python this one. See how it stands and looks at you with his one eye?"

"I'm Peter Longwood. I'm very honored and wow, you are so beautiful!"

Giselle started to step away from the window and off the pedestal. Adriana shot her a very bothered look and the naked brunette stopped still. "Come and take the chair over to the window and bend over the back. Stay standing dirty slut. I want them all to see your cunt being skewered by this big schlong."

"Yes, I want that too," Giselle said amazed at herself.

Pete could not wait another second, and leaped onto the small stage behind her. He turned her to him and kissed her on the mouth. "Excellent, come on lover, let's get it on."

She bent back over and reached between her legs to grab his joystick, guiding it straight to her love canal. The sun was high in the sky on Plato Plaza, and she was naked with her pussy spread wide and a stranger's cock in her hand. A moment passed and then she pushed hard back onto him, letting him slide inside.

The excellent beautiful Greek couple watched, speaking low with each other; Pete could only think of the hot naked slut waiting for his cock. He wondered if he should put on a condom, when the incredible angel grabbed him. Their eyes met and a look came over his face as he felt the first stirring of his volcano rising. She was putting his knob up to her lower lips, she looked so enchanting to him. Then he felt himself inside her velvet chamber, sliding slowly in. He tried to stifle a surge and drew back a little.

Giselle felt his cock, hot and hard inside her. Just as suddenly he retreated pulling back out. Not happening, she thought and pushed backward to ease his long john back in. Then she felt him start to jerk toward her. She realized he was just seconds away from his orgasm and not going to make it to hers. She turned to Adriana with a look between panic and disappointment.

"Ah, ah, ah," Pete looked back at the Greek woman, who read him immediately.

"You are quick, lover boy. Pull out now, leave her wanting; you can splash come all over her ass," the tailor's wife instructed the college boy.

Caught between amazed wonderment and dejected disappointment, the young stranger pulled slowly out of his unexpected surprise lover. The brunette still gripped him tightly and as he withdrew, his orgasm surged up from the depths of his balls. "Oh, Jesus. Oh, God!" His warm ejaculate splashed all over her naked ass and firm thighs.

Her body was coming down from its sexual high and Giselle relaxed a moment. It was then she remembered something she should have before she left her condo. She was leaving behind all the clothes she had brought and worn for alterations. She had nothing to wear home except the small baseball shirt and her heels. Would a car service take her home nude?

"Dirty slut, you wish to see what my husband pleasures me and his girlfriends with? Milos, if you please," Adriana said.

"It would be wonderful to see what Milos pleasures you with, Adriana. Thank you."

Milos walked up to Giselle and unzipped his fly, she bent over again to pull his cock out of his pants. It was as thick as her forearm and already erect and gorged, ready for her pussy. She licked at it, put her lips around it, and wet it with her saliva. He eased forward and she guided him into her honey hole. She was slick and silky. He was hot and hard.

"Oh, god. Oh. Oh." He was big oh he was. "Oh!" Huge. Her cooch stretched open to take him in, she tried to spread herself further open only to lurch away from him. He grabbed her hips and shoved back hard; his fat pecker tapped at her g-spot and she came. "Yes, oh yes. Oh, fuck me!"

"So, American girl, are you a dirty slut?" Adriana asked.

"I am a dirty slut," and I am in deep trouble. Fuck.