In the heart of New York City, there was a quaint little lingerie shop, known only to the most discerning of customers. It was here that I met Isabella, a woman of exquisite beauty and tantalizing allure. She was a saleswoman at the shop, and I was there to purchase a gift for my wife.
Isabella had a way of moving that was both graceful and seductive. She wore a push-up bra that accentuated her ample assets, and as she leaned over to show me a particular piece, I couldn’t help but feel a stirring in my loins.
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” she asked, her voice like silk.
I swallowed hard, trying to compose myself. “Yes, I’m looking for a gift for my wife. Something…special.”
Isabella smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think I have just the thing,” she said, leading me to a secluded corner of the shop.
She showed me an array of lacy lingerie, each piece more provocative than the last. But it was the push-up bra that caught my eye. It was identical to the one she was wearing, and I found myself imagining what it would be like to see her in nothing but that.
“I’ll take it,” I said, my voice husky with desire.
Isabella’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure. “Very well, sir. Shall I wrap it up for you?”
I nodded, unable to speak. She turned to leave, but not before giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage.
As she walked away, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to touch her. To feel her soft skin against mine. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself.
Later that night, I found myself unable to sleep. I kept thinking about Isabella, about the way she looked in that push-up bra. I knew I had to see her again.
I called the shop the next day, pretending to have a question about the bra I had purchased. Isabella answered the phone, her voice as smooth as ever.
“Isabella, it’s me,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Oh, hello, sir. Is there something wrong with the bra?”
“No, no, it’s fine. I was just wondering…do you have any more like it?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I think I might,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why don’t you come by the shop and see for yourself?”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I arrived at the shop a short while later, my heart racing with anticipation.
Isabella was waiting for me, a sultry smile on her lips. “I’m so glad you came,” she said, her eyes shining with excitement.
She led me to the back room, where she showed me an array of push-up bras, each one more provocative than the last. I couldn’t help but stare at her cleavage, at the way the lace hugged her curves.
“Do you like them?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, unable to speak. She moved closer to me, her body brushing against mine. I could feel the heat radiating off her, could smell the intoxicating scent of her perfume.
She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. “I’ve been thinking about you,” she whispered, her lips barely an inch from mine.
I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in, my lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss. She responded eagerly, her tongue exploring my mouth.
Before I knew it, we were tearing at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel each other’s skin. She pushed me back onto the couch, straddling me.
I could feel her heat, could feel her wetness against me. She ground against me, her moans growing louder with each passing moment.
I reached up, my hands cupping her breasts, feeling the weight of them in my hands. She gasped, her head falling back as I teased her nipples through the lace of her bra.
She leaned down, her mouth finding mine once again. Our tongues danced together as our bodies moved in perfect harmony.
She reached down, her fingers finding my cock, already hard and aching for her. She stroked me, her grip tight and sure.
I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed to be inside her. I flipped her over, my body covering hers.
She spread her legs, her wetness glistening in the dim light. I positioned myself at her entrance, teasing her with the tip of my cock.
She moaned, her hips bucking up to meet me. I plunged inside her, her warmth enveloping me.
We moved together, our bodies slick with sweat. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me deeper inside her.
I could feel her orgasm building, could feel her muscles tightening around me. She moaned, her head thrown back in ecstasy.
I couldn’t hold back any longer. I buried myself deep inside her, my orgasm ripping through me. She cried out, her own orgasm crashing over her.
We lay there, our bodies spent and satisfied. I knew what I had done was wrong, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
Isabella was a woman like no other, and I knew I would never forget her.
As I left the shop, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing. I knew I would never see her again, but I would always treasure the memory of our time together.
The end.
